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THE  HAPPY  PRINCE 
AND  OTHER  TALES 


A  faithful  reprint  of  the  first  English 
edition  of  The  Happy  Prince  and  Other 
Tales  by  Oscar  Wilde.  Illustrated  by 
Walter  Crane  and  Jacomb  Hood  Lon- 
don :  David  Nutt,  270  Strand,  1889. 
Quarto.  Decorated  vellum  boards. 
Pp.  viii-|-ii7. 


THE  HAPPY  PRINCE 
AND  OTHER  TALES 

BY 
OSCAR  WILDE 


Portland,  Maine 

MdccccviJ 


This  First  Edition  on 
ymn  Gelder  paper  con- 
sists of  92  §  copies. 


REPLACING 


/^2 


>^    ^^ 


\H0 


/l/l  fv  /J 


TO 

CARLOS  BLACKER 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I      THE    HAPPY    PRINCE        ...  3 

II      THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE  21 

III  THE    SELFISH    GIANT       •            •            •  35 

IV  THE    DEVOTED    FRIEND              .            .  45 
V      THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET  .            .  67 


THE  HAPPY  PRINCE 


THE  HAPPY  PRINCE 


HIGH  above  the  city,  on  a  tall  column, 
stood  the  statue  of  the  Happy  Prince. 
He  was  gilded  all  over  with  thin  leaves  of 
fine  gold,  for  eyes  he  had  two  bright 
sapphires,  and  a  large  red  ruby  glowed 
on  his  sword-hilt. 

He  was  very  much  admired  indeed.  "He 
is  as  beautiful  as  a  weathercock,"  remarked 
one  of  the  Town  Councillors  who  wished  to 
gain  a  reputation  for  having  artistic  tastes; 
•'  only  not  quite  so  useful,"  he  added,  fearing 
lest  people  should  think  him  unpractical, 
which  he  really  was  not. 

"  Why  can't  you  be  like  the  Happy 
Prince  ? "  asked  a  sensible  mother  of  her 
little  boy  who  was  crying  for  the  moon. 
"  The  Happy  Prince  never  dreams  of  crying 
for  anything." 

"  i  am  glad  there  is  some  one  in  the  world 
who  is  quite  happy,"  muttered  a  disappointed 
man  as  he  gazed  at  the  wonderful  statue. 

"  He  looks  just  like  an  angel,"  said  the 
Charity  Children  as  they  came  out  of  the 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

cathedral  in  their  bright  scarlet  cloaks,  and 
their  clean  white  pinafores. 

"How  do  you  know?"  said  the  Mathe- 
matical Master,  "  you  have  never  seen  one." 

"Ah!  but  we  have,  in  our  dreams," 
answered  the  children  ;  and  the  Mathemati- 
cal Master  frowned  and  looked  very  severe, 
for  he  did  not  approve  of  children  dreaming. 

One  night  there  flew  over  the  city  a  little 
Swallow.  His  friends  had  gone  away  to 
Egypt  six  weeks  before,  but  he  had  stayed 
behind,  for  he  was  in  love  with  the  most 
beautiful  Reed.  He  had  met  her  early  in  the 
spring  as  he  was  flying  down  the  river  after 
a  big  yellow  moth,  and  had  been  so  attracted 
by  her  slender  waist  that  he  had  stopped 
to  talk  to  her. 

"  Shall  I  love  you  ? "  said  the  Swallow, 
who  liked  to  come  to  the  point  at  once,  and 
the  Reed  made  him  a  low  bow.  So  he  flew 
round  and  round  her,  touching  the  water 
with  his  wings,  and  making  silver  ripples. 
This  was  his  courtship,  and  it  lasted  all 
through  the  summer. 

"  It  is  a  ridiculous  attachment,"  twittered 
the  other  Swallows,  "  she  has  no  money, 
and  far  too  many  relations ; "  and  indeed 
the  river  was  quite  full  of  Reeds.  Then, 
when  the  autumn  came,  they  all  flew  away. 

After  they  had  gone  he  felt  lonely,  and 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

began  to  tire  of  his  lady-love.  '*  She  has  no 
conversation,"  he  said,  "  and  I  am  afraid 
that  she  is  a  coquette,  for  she  is  always 
flirting  with  the  wind."  And  certainly, 
whenever  the  wind  blew,  the  Reed  made  the 
most  graceful  curtsies.  "  I  admit  that  she 
is  domestic,"  he  continued,  "but  I  love 
travelling,  and  my  wife,  consequently,  should 
love  travelling  also." 

"  Will  you  come  away  with  me  ? "  he  said 
finally  to  her ;  but  the  Reed  shook  her  head, 
she  was  so  attached  to  her  home. 

"  You  have  been  trifling  with  me,"  he 
cried,  "  I  am  off  to  the  Pyramids.  Good- 
bye ! "  and  he  flew  away. 

All  day  long  he  flew,  and  at  night-time  he 
arrived  at  the  city.  "  Where  shall  I  put 
up  ? "  he  said ;  '*  I  hope  the  town  has  made 
preparations." 

Then  he  saw  the  statue  on  the  tall  column. 
"  I  will  put  up  there,"  he  cried ;  "  it  is  a  fine 
position  with  plenty  of  fresh  air."  So  he 
alighted  just  between  the  feet  of  the  Happy 
Prince. 

*'  I  have  a  golden  bedroom,"  he  said 
softly  to  himself  as  he  looked  round,  and  he 
prepared  to  go  to  sleep ;  but  just  as  he  was 
putting  his  head  under  his  wing  a  large 
drop  of  water  fell  on  him.  '*  What  a  curious 
thing!"  he  cried,  "there   is   not   a   single 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

cloud  in  the  sky,  the  stars  are  quite  clear 
and  bright,  and  yet  it  is  raining.  The 
climate  in  the  north  of  Europe  is  really 
dreadful.  The  Reed  used  to  like  the  rain, 
but  that  was  merely  her  selfishness." 

Then  another  drop  fell. 

"  What  is  the  use  of  a  statue  if  it  cannot 
keep  the  rain  off  ?  "  he  said  ;  "  I  must  look 
for  a  good  chimney-pot,"  and  he  determined 
to  fly  away. 

But  before  he  had  opened  his  wings,  a 
third  drop  fell,  and  he  looked  up,  and  saw  — 
Ah  !  what  did  he  see  ? 

The  eyes  of  the  Happy  Prince  were  filled 
with  tears,  and  tears  were  running  down  his 
golden  cheeks.  His  face  was  so  beautiful  in 
the  moonlight  that  the  little  Swallow  was 
filled  with  pity. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  he  said. 

"I  am  the  Happy  Prince." 

"  Why  are  you  weeping  then  ? "  asked  the 
Swallow  ;  "  you  have  quite  drenched  me." 

*'  When  I  was  alive  and  had  a  human 
heart,"  answered  the  statue,  "  I  did  not 
know  what  tears  were,  fipr  I  lived  in  the 
Palace  of  Sans-Souci,  where  sorrow  is  not 
allowed  to  enter.  In  the  daytime  I  played 
with  my  companions  in  the  garden,  and  in 
the  evening  I  led  the  dance  in  the  Great 
Hall.     Round  the  garden  ran  a  very  lofty 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

wall,  but  I  never  cared  to  ask  what  lay 
beyond  it,  everything  about  me  was  so 
beautiful.  My  courtiers  called  me  the  Happy 
Prince,  and  happy  indeed  I  was,  if  pleasure 
be  happiness.  So  I  lived,  and  so  I  died. 
And  now  that  I  am  dead  they  have  set  me 
up  here  so  high  that  I  can  see  all  the 
ugliness  and  all  the  misery  of  my  city,  and 
though  my  heart  is  made  of  lead  yet  I  can- 
not choose  but  weep." 

"  What,  is  he  not  solid  gold  ? "  said  the 
Swallow  to  himself.  He  was  too  polite  to 
make  any  personal  remarks  out  loud. 

"  Far  away,"  continued  the  statue  in  a 
low  musical  voice,  "far  away  in  a  little 
street  there  is  a  poor  house.  One  of  the 
windows  is  open,  and  through  it  I  can  see  a 
woman  seated  at  a  table.  Her  face  is  thin 
and  worn,  and  she  has  coarse,  red  hands, 
all  pricked  by  the  needle,  for  she  is  a  seam- 
stress. She  is  embroidering  passion-flowers 
on  a  satin  gown  for  the  loveliest  of  the 
Queen's  maids -of-honour  to  wear  at  the 
next  Court -ball.  In  a  bed  in  the  corner  of 
the  room  her  littie  boy  is  lying  ill.  He  has 
a  fever,  and  is  asking  for  oranges.  His 
mother  has  nothing  to  give  him  but  river 
water,  so  he  is  crying.  Swallow,  Swallow, 
little  Swallow,  will  you  not  bring  her  the 
ruby  out  of  my  sword-hilt  ?     My  feet  are 


THE   HAPPY   PRINCE 

fastened  to  this  pedestal  and  I  cannot 
move." 

"  I  am  waited  for  in  Egypt,"  said  the 
Swallow.  "  My  friends  are  flying  up  and 
down  the  Nile,  and  talking  to  the  large 
lotus-flowers.  Soon  they  will  go  to  sleep  in 
the  tomb  of  the  great  King.  The  King  is 
there  himself  in  his  painted  coffin.  He 
is  wrapped  in  yellow  linen,  and  embalmed 
with  spices.  Round  his  neck  is  a  chain  of 
pale  green  jade,  and  his  hands  are  like 
withered  leaves." 

"  Swallow,  Swallow,  little  Swallow,"  said 
the  Prince,  "  will  you  not  stay  with  me  for 
one  night,  and  be  my  messenger  ?  The  boy 
is  so  thirsty,  and  the  mother  so  sad." 

"  I  don't  think  I  like  boys,"  answered  the 
Swallow.  *'  Last  summer,  when  I  was  stay- 
ing on  the  river,  there  were  two  rude  boys, 
the  miller's  sons,  who  were  always  throwing 
stones  at  me.  They  never  hit  me,  of  course ; 
we  swallows  fly  far  too  well  for  that,  and 
besides,  I  come  of  a  family  famous  for  its 
agility;  but  still,  it  was  a  mark  of  disrespect." 

But  the  Happy  Prince  looked  so  sad  that 
the  little  Swallow  was  sorry.  "It  is  very 
cold  here,"  he  said;  "but  I  will  stay  with 
you  for  one  night,  and  be  your  messenger." 

"Thank  you,  little  Swallow,"  said  the 
Prince. 


8 


THE    HAPPY   PRINCE 

So  the  Swallow  picked  out  the  great  ruby 
from  the  Prince's  sword,  and  flew  away  with 
it  in  his  beak  over  the  roofs  of  the  town. 

He  passed  by  the  cathedral  tower,  where 
the  white  marble  angels  were  sculptured. 
He  passed  by  the  palace  and  heard  the  sound 
of  dancing.  A  beautiful  girl  came  out  on 
the  balcony  with  her  lover.  "  How  wonder- 
ful the  stars  are,"  he  said  to  her,  "and  how 
wonderful  is  the  power  of  love  !  "  "I  hope 
my  dress  will  be  ready  in  time  for  the  State- 
ball,"  she  answered;  "I  have  ordered  pas- 
sion-flowers to  be  embroidered  on  it ;  but 
the  seamstresses  are  so  lazy." 

He  passed  over  the  river,  and  saw  the 
lanterns  hanging  to  the  masts  of  the  ships. 
He  passed  over  the  Ghetto,  and  saw  the  old 
Jews  bargaining  with  each  other,  and  weigh- 
ing out  money  in  copper  scales.  At  last  he 
came  to  the  poor  house  and  looked  in.  The 
boy  was  tossing  feverishly  on  his  bed,  and 
the  mother  had  fallen  asleep,  she  was  so 
tired.  In  he  hopped,  and  laid  the  great  ruby 
on  the  table  beside  the  woman's  thimble. 
Then  he  flew  gently  round  the  bed,  fanning 
the  boy's  forehead  with  his  wings.  "  How 
cool  I  feel,"  said  the  boy,  "  I  must  be  getting 
better;"  and  he  sank  into  a  delicious  slum- 
ber. 

Then  the  Swallow  flew  back  to  the  Happy 


THE    HAPPY   PRINCE 

Prince,  and  told  him  what  he  had  done.  "  It 
is  curious,"  he  remarked,  "  but  I  feel  quite 
warm  now,  although  it  is  so  cold." 

"  That  is  because  you  have  done  a  good 
action,"  said  the  Prince.  And  the  little 
Swallow  began  to  think,  and  then  he  fell 
asleep.     Thinking  always  made  him  sleepy. 

When  day  broke  he  flew  down  to  the 
river  and  tiad  a  bath.  "  What  a  remarkable 
phenomenon,"  said  the  Professor  of  Orni- 
thology as  he  was  passing  over  the  bridge. 
'•  A  swallow  in  winter ! "  And  he  wrote  a 
long  letter  about  it  to  the  local  newspaper. 
Every  one  quoted  it,  it  was  full  of  so  many 
words  that  they  could  not  understand. 

"To-night  I  go  to  Egypt,"  said  the  Swal- 
low, and  he  was  in  high  spirits  at  the  pros- 
pect. He  visited  all  the  public  monuments, 
and  sat  a  long  time  on  top  of  the  church 
steeple.  Wherever  he  went  the  Sparrows 
chirruped,  and  said  to  each  other,  "  What  a 
distinguished  stranger!  "  so  he  enjoyed  him- 
self very  much. 

When  the  moon  rose  he  flew  back  to  the 
Happy  Prince.  "  Have  you  any  commis- 
sions for  Egypt.'*"  he  cried;  "I  am  just 
starting." 

"Swallow,  Sw^allow,  little  Swallow,"  said 
the  Prince,  "  will  you  not  stay  with  me  one 
night  longer?" 


ID 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

"  I  am  waited  for  in  Egypt,"  answered  the 
Swallow.  "  To-morrow  my  friends  will  fly 
up  to  the  Second  Cataract,  The  river-horse 
couches  there  among  the  bulrushes,  and  on 
a  great  granite  throne  sits  the  God  Memnon. 
All  night  long  he  watches  the  stars,  and 
when  the  morning  star  shines  he  utters  one 
cry  of  joy,  and  then  he  is  silent.  At  noon 
the  yellow  lions  come  down  to  the  water's 
edge  to  drink.  They  have  eyes  like  green 
beryls,  and  their  roar  is  louder  than  the 
roar  of  the  cataract." 

"  Swallow,  Swallow,  little  Swallow,"  said 
the  Prince,  "  far  away  across  the  city  I  see  a 
young  man  in  a  garret.  He  is  leaning  over 
a  desk  covered  with  papers,  and  in  a  tumbler 
by  his  side  there  is  a  bunch  of  withered 
violets.  His  hair  is  brown  and  crisp,  and 
his  lips  are  red  as  a  pomegranate,  and  he 
has  large  and  dreamy  eyes.  He  is  trying  to 
finish  a  play  for  the  Director  of  the  Theatre, 
but  he  is  too  cold  to  write  any  more.  There 
is  no  fire  in  the  grate,  and  hunger  has  made 
him  faint." 

"  I  will  wait  with  you  one  night  longer," 
said  the  Swallow,  who  really  had  a  good 
heart.     "Shall  I  take  him  another  ruby.?" 

"  Alas  1  I  have  no  ruby  now,"  said  the 
Prince;  "my  eyes  are  all  that  I  have  left. 
They  are  made  of  rare  sapphires,  which  were 


II 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

brought  out  of  India  a  thousand  years  ago. 
Pluck  out  one  of  them  and  take  it  to  him. 
He  will  sell  it  to  the  jeweller,  and  buy  food 
and  firewood,  and  finish  his  play." 

"  Dear  Prince,"  said  the  Swallow,  "  I  can- 
not do  that;"  and  he  began  to  weep. 

"  Swallow,  Swallow,  little  Swallow,"  said 
the  Prince,  "do  as  I  command  you." 

So  the  Swallow  plucked  out  the  Prince's 
eye,  and  flew  away  to  the  student's  garret. 
It  was  easy  enough  to  get  in,  as  there  was  a 
hole  in  the  roof.  Through  this  he  darted, 
and  came  into  the  room.  The  young  man 
had  his  head  buried  in  his  hands,  so  he  did 
not  hear  the  flutter  of  the  bird's  wings,  and 
when  he  looked  up  he  found  the  beautiful 
sapphire  lying  on  the  withered  violets. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  be  appreciated,"  he 
cried ;  "  this  is  from  some  great  admirer. 
Now  I  can  finish  my  play,"  and  he  looked 
quite  happy. 

The  next  day  the  Swallow  flew  down  to  the 
harbour.  He  sat  on  the  mast  of  a  large 
vessel  and  watched  the  sailors  hauling  big 
chests  out  of  the  hold  with  ropes.  "  Heave 
a-hoyl"  they  shouted  as  each  chest  came 
up.  "I  am  going  to  Egypt!"  cried  the 
Swallow,  but  nobody  minded,  and  when  the 
moon  rose  he  flew  back  to  the  Happy 
Prince. 


12 


THE   HAPPY   PRINCE 

"  I  am  come  to  bid  you  good-bye,"  he 
cried. 

"  Swallow,  Swallow,  little  Swallow,"  said 
the  Prince,  "will  you  not  stay  with  me  one 
night  longer?" 

"  It  is  winter,"  answered  the  Swallow, 
"  and  the  chill  snow  will  soon  be  here.  In 
Egypt  the  sun  is  warm  on  the  green  palm- 
trees,  and  the  crocodiles  lie  in  the  mud  and 
look  lazily  about  them.  My  companions  are 
building  a  nest  in  the  Temple  of  Baalbec, 
and  the  pink  and  white  doves  are  watching 
them,  and  cooing  to  each  other.  Dear 
Prince,  I  must  leave  you,  but  I  will  never 
forget  you,  and  next  spring  I  will  bring  you 
back  two  beautiful  jewels  in  place  of  those 
you  have  given  away.  The  ruby  shall  be 
redder  than  a  red  rose,  and  the  sapphire 
shall  be  as  blue  as  the  great  sea." 

"  In  the  square  below,"  said  the  Happy 
Prince,  "there  stands  a  little  match-girl. 
She  has  let  her  matches  fall  in  the  gutter, 
and  they  are  all  spoiled.  Her  father  will 
beat  her  if  she  does  not  bring  home  some 
money,  and  she  is  crying.  She  has  no  shoes 
or  stockings,  and  her  little  head  is  bare. 
Pluck  out  my  other  eye,  and  give  it  to  her, 
and  her  father  will  not  beat  her." 

"  I  will  stay  with  you  one  night  longer," 
said  the  Swallow,  "  but  I  cannot  pluck  out 


13 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

your  eye.     You  would  be  quite  blind  then." 

"  Swallow,  Swallow,  little  Swallow,"  said 
the  Prince,  "do  as  I  command  you." 

So  he  plucked  out  the  Prince's  other  eye, 
and  darted  down  with  it.  He  swooped  past 
the  match-girl,  and  slipped  the  jewel  into 
the  palm  of  her  hand.  "  What  a  lovely  bit 
of  glass,"  cried  the  little  girl ;  and  she  ran 
home,  laughing. 

Then  the  Swallow  came  back  to  the  Prince. 
♦'  You  are  blind  now,"  he  said,  "  so  I  will  stay 
with  you  always." 

'*  No,  little  Swallow,"  said  the  poor  Prince, 
"you  must  go  away  to  Egypt." 

"  I  will  stay  with  you  always,"  said  the 
Swallow,  and  he  slept  at  the  Prince's  feet. 

All  the  next  day  he  sat  on  the  Prince's 
shoulder,  and  told  him  stories  of  what  he 
had  seen  in  strange  lands.  He  told  him  of 
the  red  ibises,  who  stand  in  long  rows  on  the 
banks  of  the  Nile,  and  catch  gold  fish  in 
their  beaks ;  of  the  Sphinx,  who  is  as  old  as 
the  world  itself,  and  lives  in  the  desert,  and 
knows  everything;  of  the  merchants,  who 
walk  slowly  by  the  side  of  their  camels,  and 
carry  amber  beads  in  their  hands  ;  of  the  King 
of  the  Mountains  of  the  Moon,  who  is  as  black 
as  ebony,  and  worships  a  large  crystal ;  of  the 
great  green  snake  that  sleeps  in  a  palm-tree, 
and  has  twenty  priests  to  feed  it  with  honey- 


14 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

cakes ;  and  of  the  pygmies  who  sail  over  a 
big  lake  on  large  flat  leaves,  and  are  always 
at  war  with  the  butterflies. 

"  Dear  little  Swallow,"  said  the  Prince, 
*'  you  tell  me  of  marvellous  things,  but  more 
marvellous  than  anything  is  the  suffering  of 
men  and  of  women.  There  is  no  Mystery 
so  great  as  Misery.  Fly  over  my  city,  little 
Swallow,  and  tell  me  what  you  see  there." 

So  the  Swallow  flew  over  the  great  city, 
and  saw  the  rich  making  merry  in  their 
beautiful  houses,  while  the  beggars  were 
sitting  at  the  gates.  He  flew  into  dark 
lanes,  and  saw  the  white  faces  of  starving 
children  looking  out  listlessly  at  the  black 
streets.  Under  the  archway  of  a  bridge  two 
little  boys  were  lying  in  one  another's  arms 
to  try  and  keep  themselves  warm.  "  How 
hungry  we  are!"  they  said.  "You  must 
not  lie  here,"  shouted  the  Watchman,  and 
they  wandered  out  into  the  rain. 

Then  he  flew  back  and  told  the  Prince 
what  he  had  seen. 

"  I  am  covered  with  fine  gold,"  said  the 
Prince,  **  you  must  take  it  off,  leaf  by  leaf, 
and  give  it  to  my  poor;  the  living  always 
think  that  gold  can  make  them  happy." 

Leaf  after  leaf  of  the  fine  gold  the  Swallow 
picked  off,  till  the  Happy  Prince  looked 
quite  dull  and  grey.     Leaf  after  leaf  of  the 


15 


THE   HAPPY   PRINCE 

fine  gold  he  brought  to  the  poor,  and  the  chil- 
dren's faces  grew  rosier,  and  they  laughed 
and  played  games  in  the  street.  "  We  have 
bread  now!"  they  cried. 

Then  the  snow  came,  and  after  the  snow 
came  the  frost.  The  streets  looked  as  if 
they  were  made  of  silver,  they  were  so  bright 
and  glistening;  long  icicles  like  crystal  dag- 
gers hung  down  from  the  eaves  of  the  houses, 
everybody  went  about  in  furs,  and  the  little 
boys  wore  scarlet  caps  and  skated  on  the  ice. 

The  poor  little  Swallow  grew  colder  and 
colder,  but  he  would  not  leave  the  Prince,  he 
loved  him  too  well.  He  picked  up  crumbs 
outside  the  baker's  door  when  the  baker  was 
not  looking,  and  tried  to  keep  himself  warm 
by  flapping  his  wings. 

But  at  last  he  knew  that  he  was  going  to 
die.  He  had  just  strength  to  fly  up  to  the 
Prince's  shoulder  once  more.  "Good-bye, 
dear  Prince  ! "  he  murmured,  "  will  you  let 
me  kiss  your  hand  ? " 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  are  going  to  Egypt 
at  last,  little  Swallow,"  said  the  Prince,  "  you 
have  stayed  too  long  here ;  but  you  must 
kiss  me  on  the  lips,  for  I  love  you." 

"  It  is  not  to  Egypt  that  I  am  going,"  said 
the  Swallow.  *'  I  am  going  to  the  House  of 
Death.  Death  is  the  brother  of  Sleep,  is  he 
not?" 


i6 


THE    HAPPY    PRINCE 

And  he  kissed  the  Happy  Prince  on  the 
lips,  and  fell  down  dead  at  his  feet. 

At  that  moment  a  curious  crack  sounded 
inside  the  statue  as  if  something  had  broken. 
The  fact  is  that  the  leaden  heart  had  snapped 
right  in  two.  It  certainly  was  a  dreadfully 
hard  frost. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  Mayor  was 
walking  in  the  square  below  in  company 
with  the  Town  Councillors.  As  they  passed 
the  column  he  looked  up  at  the  statue: 
"  Dear  me  I  how  shabby  the  Happy  Prince 
looks  !  "  he  said. 

"  How  shabby  indeed !  "  cried  the  Town 
Councillors,  who  always  agreed  with  the 
Mayor,  and  they  went  up  to  look  at  it. 

"  The  ruby  has  fallen  out  of  his  sword, 
his  eyes  are  gone,  and  he  is  golden  no 
longer,"  said  the  Mayor;  "  in  fact,  he  is  little 
better  than  a  beggar!  " 

"  Little  better  than  a  beggar,"  said  the 
Town  Councillors. 

"And  here  is  actually  a  dead  bird  at  his 
feet !  "  continued  the  Mayor.  "  We  must 
really  issue  a  proclamation  that  birds  are 
not  to  be  allowed  to  die  here."  And  the 
Town  Clerk  made  a  note  of  the  sugges- 
tion. 

So  they  pulled  down  the  statue  of  the 
Happy  Prince.     "As  he  is  no  longer  beauti- 


17 


THE   HAPPY   PRINCE 

ful  he  is  no  longer  useful,"  said  the  Art 
Professor  at  the  University. 

Then  they  melted  the  statue  in  a  furnace, 
and  the  Mayor  held  a  meeting  of  the  Corpo- 
ration to  decide  what  was  to  be  done  with 
the  metal.  "  We  must  have  another  statue, 
of  course,"  he  said,  '*  and  it  shall  be  a  statue 
of  myself." 

"  Of  myself,"  said  each  of  the  Town  Coun- 
cillors, and  they  quarrelled.  When  I  last 
heard  of  them  they  were  quarrelling  still. 

"  What  a  strange  thing !  "  said  the  over- 
seer of  the  workmen  at  the  foundry.  "  This 
broken  lead  heart  will  not  melt  in  the  fur- 
nace. We  must  throw  it  away."  So  they 
threw  it  on  a  dust -heap  where  the  dead 
Swallow  was  also  lying. 

"  Bring  me  the  two  most  precious  things 
in  the  city,"  said  God  to  one  of  His  Angels ; 
and  the  Angel  brought  Him  the  leaden  heart 
and  the  dead  bird. 

"  You  have  rightly  chosen,"  said  God, 
"  for  in  my  garden  of  Paradise  this  little 
bird  shall  sing  for  evermore,  and  in  my  city 
of  gold  the  Happy  Prince  shall  praise  me." 


IT 

THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND 
THE  ROSE 


II 

THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND 
THE  ROSE 

6  4  O  HE  said  that  she  would  dance  with 
O  me  if  I  brought  her  red  roses," 
cried  the  young  Student  ;  "but  in  all  my 
garden  there  is  no  red  rose." 

From  her  nest  in  the  holm-oak  tree  the 
Nightingale  heard  him,  and  she  looked  out 
through  the  leaves,  and  wondered. 

"  No  red  rose  in  all  my  garden  ! "  he  cried, 
and  his  beautiful  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
"Ah,  on  what  little  things  does  happiness 
depend !  I  have  read  all  that  the  wise  njen 
have  written,  and  all  the  secrets  of  philos- 
ophy are  mine,  yet  for  want  of  a  red  rose  is 
my  life  made  wretched." 

*'  Here  at  last  is  a  true  lover,"  said  the 
Nightingale.  "Night  after  night  have  I 
sung  of  him,  though  I  knew  him  not :  night 
after  night  have  I  told  his  story  to  the  stars, 
and  now  I  see  him.  His  hair  is  dark  as  the 
hyacinth -blossom,  and  his  lips  are  red  as  the 
rose  of  his  desire;  but  passion  has  made  his 
face  like  pale  ivory,  and  sorrow  has  set  her 
seal  upon  his  brow." 


21 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

'*  The  Prince  gives  a  ball  to-morrow 
night,"  murmured  the  young  Student,  "  and 
my  love  will  be  of  the  company.  If  I  bring 
her  a  red  rose  she  will  dance  with  me  till 
dawn.  If  I  bring  her  a  red  rose,  I  shall 
hold  her  in  my  arms,  and  she  wull  lean  her 
head  upon  my  shoulder,  and  her  hand  will 
be  clasped  in  mine.  But  there  is  no  red 
rose  in  my  garden,  so  I  shall  sit  lonely,  and 
she  will  pass  me  by.  She  will  have  no  heed  of 
me,  and  my  heart  will  break." 

"  Here  indeed  is  the  true  lover,"  said  the 
Nightingale.  "What  I  sing  of,  he  suffers: 
what  is  joy  to  me,  to  him  is  pain.  Surely 
Love  is  a  wonderful  thing.  It  is  more 
precious  than  emeralds,  and  dearer  than  fine 
opals.  Pearls  and  pomegranates  cannot 
buv  it,  nor  is  it  set  forth  in  the  market- 
place.  It  may  not  be  purchased  of  the 
merchants,  nor  can  it  be  weighed  out  in  the 
balance  for  gold." 

"  The  musicians  will  sit  in  their  gallery," 
said  the  young  Student,  "and  play  upon 
their  stringed  instruments,  and  my  love  will 
dance  to  the  sound  of  the  harp  and  the 
violin.  She  will  dance  so  lightly  that  her 
feet  will  not  touch  the  floor,  and  the 
courtiers  in  their  gay  dresses  will  throng 
round  her.  But  with  me  she  will  not  dance, 
for  I  have  no  red  rose  to  give  her ; "  and  he 


22 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

flung  himself  down  on  the  grass,  and  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands,  and  wept. 

"  Why  is  he  weeping  ? "  asked  a  little 
Green  Lizard,  as  he  ran  past  him  with  his 
tail  in  the  air. 

"Why,  indeed?"  said  a  Butterfly,  who 
was  fluttering  about  after  a  sunbeam. 

"Why,  indeed  ?"  whispered  a  Daisy  to  his 
neighbour,  in  a  soft,  low  voice. 

"  He  is  weeping  for  a  red  rose,"  said  the 
Nightingale. 

"  For  a  red  rose !  "  they  cried  ;  "  how  very 
ridiculous ! "  and  the  little  Lizard,  who  was 
something  of  a  cynic,  laughed  outright. 

But  the  Nightingale  understood  the 
secret  of  the  Student's  sorrow,  and  she  sat 
silent  in  the  oak-tree,  and  thought  about 
the  mystery  of  Love. 

Suddenly  she  spread  her  brown  wings  for 
flight,  and  soared  into  the  air.  She  passed 
through  the  grove  like  a  shadow,  and  like 
a  shadow   she   sailed   across  the  garden. 

In  the  centre  of  the  grass-plot  was 
standing  a  beautiful  Rose-tree,  and  when 
she  saw  it,  she  flew  over  to  it,  and  lit  upon  a 
spray. 

"  Give  me  a  red  rose,"  she  cried,  "  and  I 
will  sing  you  my  sweetest  song." 

But  the  Tree  shook  its  head. 

"My  roses  are  white,"  it  answered;  "as 


23 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

white  as  the  foam  of  the  sea,  and  whiter 
than  the  snow  upon  the  mountain.  But  go 
to  my  brother  who  grows  round  the  old  sun- 
dial, and  perhaps  he  will  give  you  what  you 
want." 

So  the  Nightingale  flew  over  to  the  Rose- 
tree  that  was  growing  round  the  old 
sun-dial. 

"  Give  me  a  red  rose,"  she  cried,  "  and  I 
will  sing  you  my  sweetest  song." 

But  the  Tree  shook  its  head. 

"My  roses  are  yellow,"  it  answered;  "as 
yellow  as  the  hair  of  the  mermaiden  who 
sits  upon  an  amber  throne,  and  yellower 
than  the  daffodil  that  blooms  in  the 
meadow  before  the  mower  comes  with  his 
scythe.  But  go  to  my  brother  who  grows 
beneath  the  Student's  window,  and  perhaps 
he  will  give  you  what  you  want." 

So  the  Nightingale  flew  over  to  the 
Rose-tree  that  was  growing  beneath  the 
Student's  window. 

"  Give  me  a  red  rose,"  she  cried,  "  and  I 
will  sing  you  my  sweetest  song." 

But  the  Tree  shook  its  head. 

"  My  roses  are  red,"  it  answered,  "  as  red 
as  the  feet  of  the  dove,  and  redder  than  the 
great  fans  of  coral  that  wave  and  wave  in 
the  ocean -cavern.  But  the  winter  has 
chilled  my  veins,  and  the  frost  has  nipped 


24 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

my  buds,  and  the  storm  has  broken  my 
branches,  and  I  shall  have  no  roses  at  all 
this  year. 

"  One  red  rose  is  all  I  want,"  cried  the 
Nightingale,  "  only  one  red  rose  !  Is  there 
no  way  by  which  I  can  get  it  ?" 

"  There  is  a  way,"  answered  the  Tree ; 
"  but  it  is  so  terrible  that  I  dare  not  tell  it  to 
you." 

"  Tell  it  to  me,"  said  the  Nightingale,  "  I 
am  not  afraid." 

"  If  you  want  a  red  rose,"  said  the  Tree, 
"  you  must  build  it  out  of  music  by  moonlight, 
and  stain  it  with  your  own  heart's-blood. 
You  must  sing  to  me  with  your  breast 
against  a  thorn.  All  night  long  you  must 
sing  to  me,  and  the  thorn  must  pierce  your 
heart,  and  your  life-blood  must  flow  into  my 
veins,  and  become  mine." 

"  Death  is  a  great  price  to  pay  for  a  red 
rose,"  cried  the  Nightingale,  "  and  Life  is  very 
dear  to  all.  It  is  pleasant  to  sit  in  the  green 
wood,  and  to  watch  the  Sun  in  his  chariot 
of  gold,  and  the  Moon  in  her  chariot  of 
pearl.  Sweet  is  the  scent  of  the  hawthorn, 
and  sweet  are  the  bluebells  that  hide  in  the 
valley,  and  the  heather  that  blows  on  the  hill. 
Yet  Love  is  better  than  Life,  and  what  is  the 
heart  of  a  bird  compared  to  the  heart  of  a 
man?" 


25 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

So  she  spread  her  brown  wings  for  flight, 
and  soared  into  the  air.  She  swept  over  the 
garden  like  a  shadow,  and  like  a  shadow  she 
sailed  through  the  grove. 

The  young  Student  was  still  lying  on  the 
grass,  where  she  had  left  him,  and  the  tears 
were  not  yet  dry  in  his  beautiful  eyes. 

"Be  happy,"  cried  the  Nightingale,  "be 
happy ;  you  shall  have  your  red  rose.  I  will 
build  it  out  of  music  by  moonlight,  and  stain 
it  with  my  own  heart's-blood.  All  that  I  ask 
of  you  in  return  is  that  you  will  be  a  true 
lover,  for  Love  is  wiser  than  Philosophy, 
though  she  is  wise,  and  mightier  than  Power, 
though  he  is  mighty.  Flame -coloured  are 
his  wings,  and  coloured  like  flame  is  his  body. 
His  lips  are  sweet  as  honey,  and  his  breath 
is  like  frankincense." 

The  Student  looked  up  from  the  grass,  and 
listened,  but  he  could  not  understand  what 
the  Nightingale  was  saying  to  him,  for  he 
only  knew  the  things  that  are  written  down 
in  books. 

But  the  Oak-tree  understood,  and  felt  sad, 
for  he  was  very  fond  of  the  little  Nightingale 
who  had  built  her  nest  in  his  branches. 

"  Sing  me  one  last  song,"  he  whispered ; 
"  I  shall  feel  very  lonely  when  you  are 
gone." 

So  the  Nightingale  sang  to  the  Oak-tree, 


26 


/ 

THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

and  her  voice  was  like  water  bubbling  from 
a  silver  jar. 

When  she  had  finished  her  song  the 
Student  got  up,  and  pulled  a  note -book  and 
a  lead-pencil  out  of  his  pocket. 

"  She  has  form,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he 
walked  away  through  the  grove  —  "that 
cannot  be  denied  to  her;  but  has  she  got 
feeling  ?  I  am  afraid  not.  In  fact,  she  is 
like  most  artists ;  she  is  all  style,  without 
any  sincerity.  She  would  not  sacrifice  her- 
self for  others.  She  thinks  merely  of  music, 
and  everybody  knows  that  the  arts  are  selfish. 
Still,  it  must  be  admitted  that  she  has  some 
beautiful  notes  in  her  voice.  What  a  pity 
it  is  that  they  do  not  mean  anything,  or  do 
any  practical  good."  And  he  went  into  his 
room,  and  lay  down  on  his  little  pallet-bed, 
and  began  to  think  of  his  love ;  and,  after  a 
time,  he  fell  asleep. 

And  when  the  Moon  shone  in  the  heav- 
ens the  Nightingale  flew  to  the  Rose-tr^e, 
and  set  her  breast  against  the  thorn.  '^All 
night  long  she  sang  with  her  breast  against 
the  thorn,  and  the  cold  crystal  Moon  leaned 
down  and  listened.  All  night  long  she  sang, 
and  the  thorn  went  deeper  and  deeper  into 
her  breast,  and  her  life-blood  ebbed  away 
from  her. 

She  sang  first  of  the  birth  of  love  in  the 


27 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

heart  of  a  boy  and  a  girl.  And  on  the  top- 
most spray  of  the  Rose-tree  there  blossomed 
a  marvellous  rose,  petal  following  petal,  as 
song  followed  song.  Pale  was  it,  at  first,  as 
the  mist  that  hangs  over  the  river  —  pale 
as  the  feet  of  the  morning,  and  silver  as  the 
wings  of  the  dawn.  As  the  shadow  of  a 
rose  in  a  mirror  of  silver,  as  the  shadow  of 
a  rose  in  a  water-pool,  so  was  the  rose  that 
blossomed  on  the  topmost  spray  of  the  Tree. 

But  the  Tree  cried  to  the  Nightingale  to 
press  closer  against  the  thorn.  "  Press 
closer,  little  Nightingale,"  cried  the  Tree, 
"  or  the  Day  will  come  before  the  rose  is 
finished." 

So  the  Nightingale  pressed  closer  against 
the  thorn,  and  louder  and  louder  grew  her 
song,  for  she  sang  of  the  birth  of  passion  in 
the  soul  of  a  man  and  a  maid. 

And  a  delicate  flush  of  pink  came  into  the 
leaves  of  the  rose,  like  the  flush  in  the  face 
of  the  bridegroom  when  he  kisses  the  lips  of 
the  bride.  But  the  thorn  had  not  yet  reached 
her  heart,  so  the  rose's  heart  remained  white, 
for  only  a  Nightingale's  heart's-blood  can 
crimson  the  heart  of  a  rose. 

And  the  Tree  cried  to  the  Nightingale  to 
press  closer  against  the  thorn.  "  Press  closer, 
little  Nightingale,"  cried  the  Tree,  "  or  the 
Day  will  come  before  the  rose  is  finished." 


28 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

So  the  Nightingale  pressed  closer  against 
the  thorn,  and  the  thorn  touched  her  heart, 
and  a  fierce  pang  of  pain  shot  through  her. 
Bitter,  bitter  was  the  pain,  and  wilder  and 
wilder  grew  her  song,  for  she  sang  of  the 
Love  that  is  perfected  by  Death,  of  the  Love 
that  dies  not  in  the  tomb. 

And  the  marvellous  rose  became  crimson, 
like  the  rose  of  the  eastern  sky.  Crimson 
was  the  girdle  of  petals,  and  crimson  as  a 
ruby  was  the  heart. 

But  the  Nightingale's  voice  grew  fainter, 
and  her  little  wings  began  to  beat,  and  a  film 
came  over  her  eyes.  Fainter  and  fainter 
grew  her  song,  and  she  felt  something  chok- 
ing her  in  her  throat. 

Then  she  gave  one  last  burst  of  music. 
The  white  Moon  heard  it,  and  she  forgot  the 
dawn,  and  lingered  on  in  the  sky.  The  red 
rose  heard  it,  and  it  trembled  all  over  with 
ecstasy,  and  opened  its  petals  to  the  cold 
morning  air.  Echo  bore  it  to  her  purple 
cavern  in  the  hills,  and  woke  the  sleeping 
shepherds  from  their  dreams.  It  floated 
through  the  reeds  of  the  river,  and  they 
carried  its  message  to  the  sea. 

'<  Look,  look  !  "  cried  the  Tree,  "  the  rose 
is  finished  now ; "  but  the  Nightingale  made 
no  answer,  for  she  was  lying  dead  in  the 
long  grass,  with  the  thorn  in  her  heart. 


29 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

And  at  noon  the  Student  opened  his  win- 
dow and  looked  out. 

'*  Why,  what  a  wonderful  piece  of  luck  !  " 
he  cried ;  "  here  is  a  red  rose  !  I  have  never 
seen  any  rose  like  it  in  all  my  life.  It  is  so 
beautiful  that  I  am  sure  it  has  a  long  Latin 
name;"  and  he  leaned  down  and  plucked  it. 

Then  he  put  on  his  hat,  and  ran  up  to  the 
Professor's  house  with  the  rose  in  his  hand. 

The  daughter  of  the  Professor  was  sitting 
in  the  doorway  w'inding  blue  silk  on  a  reel, 
and  her  little  dog  was  lying  at  her  feet. 

"  You  said  that  you  would  dance  with  me 
if  I  brought  you  a  red  rose,"  cried  the  Stu- 
dent. "  Here  is  the  reddest  rose  in  all  the 
world.  You  will  wear  it  to-night  next  your 
heart,  and  as  we  dance  together  it  will  tell 
you  how  I  love  you." 

But  the  girl  frowned. 

"  I  am  afraid  it  will  not  go  with  my  dress," 
she  answered;  "and,  besides,  the  Chamber- 
lain's nephew  has  sent  me  some  real  jewels, 
and  everybody  knows  that  jewels  cost  far 
more  than  flowers." 

"  Well,  upon  my  word,  you  are  very 
ungrateful,"  said  the  Student  angrily ;  and 
he  threw  the  rose  into  the  street,  where  it 
fell  into  the  gutter,  and  a  cart-wheel  went 
over  it. 

"  Ungrateful !  "  said  the  girl.     "  I  tell  you 


30 


THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  ROSE 

what,  you  are  very  rude;  and,  after  all,  who 
are  you?  Only  a  Student.  Why,  I  don't 
believe  you  have  even  got  silver  buckles  to 
your  shoes  as  the  Chamberlain's  nephew 
has;"  and  she  got  up  from  her  chair  and 
went  into  the  house. 

•'  What  a  silly  thing  Love  is,"  said  the 
Student  as  he  walked  away.  "  It  is  not  half 
as  useful  as  Logic,  for  it  does  not  prove 
anything,  and  it  is  always  telling  one  of 
things  that  are  not  going  to  happen,  and 
making  one  believe  things  that  are  not  true. 
In  fact,  it  is  quite  unpractical,  and,  as  in  this 
age  to  be  practical  is  everything,  I  shall  go 
back  to  Philosophy  and  study  Metaphysics." 

So  he  returned  to  his  room  and  pulled  out 
a  great  dusty  book,  and  began  to  read. 


Ill 


THE  SELFISH  GIANT 


Ill 
THE  SELFISH  GIANT 

EVERY  afternoon,  as  they  were  coming 
from  school,  the  children  used  to  go 
an<J  play  in  the  Giant's  garden. 

It  was  a  large  lovely  garden,  with  soft 
green  grass.  Here  and  there  over  the  grass 
stood  beautiful  flowers  like  stars,  and  there 
were  twelve  peach-trees  that  in  the  spring- 
time broke  out  into  delicate  blossoms  of  pink 
and  pearl,  and  in  the  autumn  bore  rich  fruit. 
The  birds  sat  on  the  trees  and  sang  so 
sweetly  that  the  children  used  to  stop  their 
games  in  order  to  listen  to  them.  "How 
happy  we  are  here !  "  they  cried  to  each 
other. 

One  day  the  Giant  came  back.  He  had 
been  to  visit  his  friend  the  Cornish  ogre, 
and  had  stayed  with  him  for  seven  years. 
After  the  seven  years  were  over  he  had  said 
all  that  he  had  to  say,  for  his  conversation 
was  limited,  and  he  determined  to  return  to 
his  own  castle.  When  he  arrived  he  saw 
the  children  playing  in  the  garden. 


35 


THE   SELFISH   GIANT 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ?  "  he  cried  in 
a  very  gruff  voice,  and  the  children  ran  away. 

"  My  own  garden  is  my  own  garden,"  said 
the  Giant;  "any  one  can  understand  that, 
and  I  will  allow  nobody  to  play  in  it  but 
myself."  So  he  built  a  high  wall  all  round 
it,  and  put  up  a  notice-board. 


TRESPASSERS 

WILL  BE 
PROSECUTED 


He  was  a  very  selfish  Giant. 

The  poor  children  had  now  nowhere  to 
play.  They  tried  to  play  on  the  road,  but 
the  road  was  very  dusty  and  full  of  hard 
stones,  and  they  did  not  like  it.  They  used 
to  wander  round  the  high  wall  when  their 
lessons  were  over,  and  talk  about  the 
beautiful  garden  inside.  "  How  happy  we 
were  there,"  they  said  to  each  other. 

Then  the  Spring  came,  and  all  over  the 
country  there  were  little  blossoms  and  little 
birds.  Only  in  the  garden  of  the  Selfish 
Giant  it  was  still  winter.  The  birds  did  not 
care  to  sing  in  it  as  there  were  no  children, 
and  the  trees  forgot  to  blossom.  Once  a 
beautiful  flower  put  its  head  out  from  the 
grass,  but  when  it  saw  the  notice-board  it 


36 


THE    SELFISH    GIANT     . 

was  SO  sorry  for  the  children  that  it  slipped 
back  into  the  ground  again,  and  went  off  to 
sleep.  The  only  people  who  were  pleased 
were  the  Snow  and  the  Frost.  "  Spring  has 
forgotten  this  garden,"  they  cried,  "  so  we 
will  live  here  all  the  year  round."  The  Snow 
covered  up  the  grass  with  her  great  white 
cloak,  and  the  Frost  painted  all  the  trees 
silver.  Then  they  invited  the  North  Wind 
to  stay  with  them,  and  he  came.  He  was 
wrapped  in  furs,  and  he  roared  all  day  about 
the  garden,  and  blew  the  chimney-pots  down. 
"  This  is  a  delightful  spot,"  he  said,  "  we 
must  ask  the  Hail  on  a  visit."  So  the  Hail 
came.  Every  day  for  three  hours  he  rattled 
on  the  roof  of  the  castle  till  he  broke  most 
of  the  slates,  and  then  he  ran  round  and 
round  the  garden  as  fast  as  he  could  go.  He 
was  dressed  in  grey,  and  his  breath  was  like 
ice. 

"  I  cannot  understand  why  the  Spring  is  so 
late  in  coming,"  said  the  Selfish  Giant,  as  he 
sat  at  the  window  and  looked  out  at  his 
cold  white  garden  ;  "  I  hope  there  will  be  a 
change  in  the  weather." 

But  the  Spring  never  came,  nor  the 
Summer.  The  Autumn  gave  golden  fruit  to 
every  garden,  but  to  the  Giant's  garden  she 
gave  none.  *'  He  is  too  selfish,"  she  said. 
So    it    was    always    Winter  there,    and   the 


37 


THE   SELFISH    GIANT 

North  Wind,  and  the  Hail,  and  the  Frost, 
and  the  Snow  danced  about  through  the 
trees. 

One  morning  the  Giant  was  lying  awake  in 
bed  when  he  heard  some  lovely  music.  It 
sounded  so  sweet  to  his  ears  that  he  thought 
it  must  be  the  King's  musicians  passing  by. 
It  was  really  only  a  little  linnet  singing 
outside  his  window,  but  it  was  so  long  since 
he  had  heard  a  bird  sing  in  his  garden  that 
it  seemed  to  him  to  be  the  most  beautiful 
music  in  the  world.  Then  the  Hail  stopped 
dancing  over  his  head,  and  the  North  Wind 
ceased  roaring,  and  a  delicious  perfume 
came  to  him  through  the  open  casement. 
"  I  believe  the  Spring  has  come  at  last," 
said  the  Giant;  and  he  jumped  out  of  bed 
and  looked  out. 

What  did  he  see  ? 

He  saw  a  most  wonderful  sight.  Through 
a  little  hole  in  the  wall  the  children  had 
crept  in,  and  they  were  sitting  in  the 
branches  of  the  trees.  In  every  tree  that 
he  could  see  there  was  a  little  child.  And 
the  trees  were  so  glad  to  have  the  children 
back  again  that  they  had  covered  themselves 
with  blossoms,  and  were  waving  their  arms 
gently  above  the  children's  heads.  The 
birds  were  flying  about  and  twittering  with 
delight,  and    the    flowers    were  looking   up 


38 


THE   SELFISH   GIANT 

through  the  green  grass  and  laughing.  It 
was  a  lovely  scene,  only  in  one  corner  it  was 
still  winter.  It  was  the  farthest  corner  of 
the  garden,  and  in  it  was  standing  a  little 
boy.  He  was  so  small  that  he  could  not 
reach  up  to  the  branches  of  the  tree,  and  he 
was  wandering  all  round  it,  crying  bitterly. 
The  poor  tree  was  still  quite  covered  with 
frost  and  snow,  and  the  North  Wind  was 
blowing  and  roaring  above  it.  "  Climb  up  ! 
little  boy,"  said  the  Tree,  and  it  bent  its 
branches  down  as  low  as  it  could ;  but  the 
boy  was  too  tiny. 

And  the  Giant's  heart  melted  as  he  looked 
out.  "  How  selfish  I  have  been !  "  he  said  ; 
"  now  I  know  why  the  Spring  would  not 
come  here.  I  will  put  that  poor  little  boy 
on  the  top  of  the  tree,  and  then  I  will  knock 
down  the  wall,  and  my  garden  shall  be  the 
children's  playground  for  ever  and  ever." 
He  was  really  very  sorry  for  what  he  had 
done. 

So  he  crept  downstairs  and  opened  the 
front  door  quite  softly,  and  went  out  into 
the  garden.  But  when  the  children  saw  him 
they  were  so  frightened  that  they  all  ran 
away,  and  the  garden  became  winter  again. 
Only  the  little  boy  did  not  run,  for  his  eyes 
were  so  full  of  tears  that  he  did  not  see  the 
Giant   coming.      And    the   Giant   stole    up 


39 


THE   SELFISH    GIANT 

behind  him  and  took  him  gently  in  his  hand, 
and  put  him  up  into  the  tree.  And  the  tree 
broke  at  once  into  blossom,  and  the  birds 
came  and  sang  on  it,  and  the  little  boy 
stretched  out  his  two  arms  and  flung  them 
round  the  Giant's  neck,  and  kissed  him. 
And  the  other  children,  when  they  saw  that 
the  Giant  was  not  wicked  any  longer,  came 
running  back,  and  with  them  came  the 
Spring.  "  It  is  your  garden  now,  little  chil- 
dren," said  the  Giant,  and  he  took  a  great 
axe  and  knocked  down  the  wall.  And  when 
the  people  were  going  to  market  at  twelve 
o'clock  they  found  the  Giant  playing  with 
the  children  in  the  most  beautiful  garden 
they  had  ever  seen. 

All  day  long  they  played,  and  in  the 
evening  they  came  to  the  Giant  to  bid  him 
good-bye. 

*'  But  where  is  your  little  companion  ? " 
he  said  :  "  the  boy  I  put  into  the  tree,"  The 
Giant  loved  him  the  best  because  he  had 
kissed  him. 

"  We  don't  know,"  answered  the  children  ; 
♦'  he  has  gone  away." 

"  You  must  tell  him  to  be  sure  and  come 
here  to-morrow,"  said  the  Giant.  But  the 
children  said  that  they  did  not  know  where 
he  lived,  and  had  never  seen  him  before ; 
and  the  Giant  felt  very  sad. 


40 


THE   SELFISH   GIANT 

Every  afternoon,  when  school  was  over, 
the  children  came  and  played  with  the  Giant. 
But  the  little  boy  whom  the  Giant  loved  was 
never  seen  again.  The  Giant  was  very  kind 
to  all  the  children,  yet  he  longed  for  his  first 
little  friend,  and  often  spoke  of  him.  "  How 
I  would  like  to  see  him  1 "  he  used  to  say. 

Years  went  over,  and  the  Giant  grew  very 
old  and  feeble.  He  could  not  play  about 
any  more,  so  he  sat  in  a  huge  armchair,  and 
watched  the  children  at  their  games,  and 
admired  his  garden.  "  I  have  many  beauti- 
ful flowers,"  he  said;  "but  the  children  are 
the  most  beautiful  flowers  of  all." 

One  winter  morning  he  looked  out  of  his 
window  as  he  was  dressing.  He  did  not 
hate  the  Winter  now,  for  he  knew  that  it 
was  merely  the  Spring  asleep,  and  that  the 
flowers  were  resting. 

Suddenly  he  rubbed  his  eyes  in  wonder, 
and  looked  and  looked.  It  certainly  was  a 
marvellous  sight.  In  the  farthest  comer  of 
the  garden  was  a  tree  quite  covered  with 
lovely  white  blossoms.  Its  branches  were 
all  golden,  and  silver  fruit  hung  down  from 
them,  and  underneath  it  stood  the  little  boy 
he  had  loved. 

Downstairs  ran  the  Giant  in  great  joy,  and 
out  into  the  garden.  He  hastened  across 
the  grass,  and  came  near  to  the  child.     And 


41 


THE    SELFISH   GIANT 

when  he  came  quite  close  his  face  grew  red 
with  anger,  and  he  said,  "  Who  hath  dared 
to  wound  thee  ?  "  For  on  the  palms  of  the 
child's  hands  were  the  prints  of  two  nails, 
and  the  prints  of  two  nails  were  on  the  little 
feet. 

"Who  hath  dared  to  wound  thee?"  cried 
the  Giant ;  "  tell  me,  that  I  may  take  my 
big  sword  and  slay  him." 

"  Nay !  "  answered  the  child ;  "  but  these 
are  the  wounds  of  Love." 

"  Who  art  thou  ? "  said  the  Giant,  and  a 
strange  awe  fell  on  him,  and  he  knelt  before 
the  little  child. 

And  the  child  smiled  on  the  Giant,  and 
said  to  him,  "  You  let  me  play  once  in  your 
garden,  to-day  you  shall  come  with  me  to  my 
garden,  which  is  Paradise." 

And  when  the  children  ran  in  that  after- 
noon, they  found  the  Giant  lying  dead  under 
the  tree,  all  covered  with  white  blossoms. 


IV 


THE  DEVOTED  FRIEND 


IV 

THE  DEVOTED  FRIEND 

ONE  morning  the  old  Water-rat  put  his 
head  out  of  his  hole.  He  had  bright 
beady  eyes  and  stiff  grey  whiskers,  and  his 
tail  was  like  a  long  bit  of  black  india-rubber. 
The  little  ducks  were  swimming  about  in  the 
pond,  looking  just  like  a  lot  of  yellow  cana- 
ries, and  their  mother,  who  was  pure  white 
with  real  red  legs,  was  trying  to  teach  them 
how  to  stand  on  their  heads  in  the  water. 

"  You  will  never  be  in  the  best  society 
unless  you  can  stand  on  your  heads,"  she 
kept  saying  to  them;  and  every  now  and 
then  she  showed  them  how  it  was  done.  But 
the  little  ducks  paid  no  attention  to  her. 
They  were  so  young  that  they  did  not  know 
what  an  advantage  it  is  to  be  in  society  at 
all. 

'*  What  disobedient  children  !  "  cried  the 
old  Water-rat;  "they  really  deserve  to  be 
drowned." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  answered  the 
Duck,  "every  one  must  make  a  beginning, 
and  parents  cannot  be  too  patient." 


45 


THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

"Ah !  I  know  nothing  about  the-feelings 
of  parents,"  said  the  Water-rat;  "I  am  not 
a  family  man.  In  fact,  I  have  never  been 
married,  and  I  never  intend  to  be.  Love 
is  all  very  well  in  its  way,  but  friendship  is 
much  higher.  Indeed,  I  know  of  nothing  in 
the  world  that  is  either  nobler  or  rarer  than 
a  devoted  friendship." 

"And  what,  pray,  is  your  idea  of  the  duties 
of  a  devoted  friend  ? "  asked  a  Green  Lin- 
net, who  was  sitting  in  a  willow-tree  hard 
by,  and  had  overheard  the  conversation. 

"  Yes,  that  is  just  what  I  want  to  know," 
said  the  Duck,  and  she  swam  away  to  the 
end  of  the  pond,  and  stood  upon  her  head, 
in  order  to  give  her  children  a  good  example. 

"  What  a  silly  question  !  "  cried  the  Water- 
rat.  "  I  should  expect  my  devoted  friend  to 
be  devoted  to  me,  of  course." 

"And  what  would  you  do  in  return  ? "  said 
the  little  bird,  swinging  upon  a  silver  spray, 
and  flapping  his  tiny  wings. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  answered  the 
Water-rat. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  a  story  on  the  subject," 
said  the  Linnet. 

"Is  the  story  about  me?"  asked  the 
Water-rat.  "If  so,  I  will  listen  to  it,  for  I 
am  extremely  fond  of  fiction." 

"  It  is  applicable  to  you,"  answered  the 


46 


THE    DEVOTED   FRIEND 

Linnet ;  and  he  flew  down,  and  alighting 
upon  the  bank,  he  told  the  story  of  The 
Devoted  Friend. 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  said  the  Linnet, 
"  there  was  an  honest  little  fellow  named 
Hans." 

"  Was  he  very  distinguished  ?  "  asked  the 
Water-rat. 

"No,"  answered  the  Linnet,  "I  don't 
think  he  was  distinguished  at  all,  except  for 
his  kind  heart,  and  his  funny  round  good- 
humoured  face.  He  lived  in  a  tiny  cottage 
all  by  himself,  and  every  day  he  worked  in 
his  garden.  In  all  the  country-side  there 
was  no  garden  so  lovely  as  his.  Sweet- 
william  grew  there,  and  Gilly -flowers,  and 
Shepherds'-purses,  and  Fair-maids  of  France, 
There  were  damask  Roses,  and  yellow  Roses, 
lilac  Crocuses,  and  gold,  purple  Violets  and 
white.  Columbine  and  Ladysmock,  Marjo- 
ram and  Wild  Basil,  the  Cowslip  and  the 
Flower-de-luce,  the  Daffodil  and  the  Clove - 
Pink  bloomed  or  blossomed  in  their  proper 
order  as  the  months  went  by,  one  flower 
taking  another  flower's  place,  so  that  there 
were  always  beautiful  things  to  look  at,  and 
pleasant  odours  to  smell. 

"  Little  Hans  had  a  great  many  friends, 
but  the  most  devoted  friend  of  all  was  big 
Hugh  the  Miller.     Indeed,  so  devoted  was 


47 


THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

the  rich  Miller  to  little  Hans,  that  he  would 
never  go  by  his  garden  without  leaning  over 
the  wall  and  plucking  a  large  nosegay,  or  a 
handful  of  sweet  herbs,  or  filling  his  pockets 
with  plums  and  cherries  if  it  was  the  fruit 
season. 

"  '  Real  friends  should  have  everything  in 
common,'  the  Miller  used  to  say,  and  little 
Hans  nodded  and  smiled,  and  felt  very 
proud  of  having  a  friend  with  such  noble 
ideas. 

'*  Sometimes,  indeed,  the  neighbours 
thought  it  strange  that  the  rich  Miller  never 
gave  little  Hans  anything  in  return,  though 
he  had  a  hundred  sacks  of  flour  stored  away 
in  his  mill,  and  six  milch  cows,  and  a  large 
flock  of  woolly  sheep ;  but  Hans  never  trou- 
bled his  head  about  these  things,  and  nothing 
gave  him  greater  pleasure  than  to  listen  to 
all  the  w^onderful  things  the  Miller  used 
to  say  about  the  unselfishness  of  true  friend- 
ship. 

"So  little  Hans  worked  away  in  his  gar- 
den. During  the  spring,  the  summer,  and 
the  autumn  he  was  very  happy,  but  when  the 
winter  came,  and  he  had  no  fruit  or  flowers 
to  bring  to  the  market,  he  suffered  a  good 
deal  from  cold  and  hunger,  and  often  had  to 
go  to  bed  without  any  supper  but  a  few 
dried   pears  or   some  hard   nuts.      In    the 


48 


THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

winter,  also,  he  was  extremely  lonely,  as  the 
Miller  never  came  to  see  him  then. 

" '  There  is  no  good  in  my  going  to  see 
little  Hans  as  long  as  the  snow  lasts,'  the 
Miller  used  to  say  to  his  wife,  'for  when 
people  are  in  trouble  they  should  be  left 
alone,  and  not  be  bothered  by  visitors.  That 
at  least  is  my  idea  about  friendship,  and  I 
am  sure  I  am  right.  So  I  shall  wait  till  the 
spring  comes,  and  then  I  shall  pay  him  a 
visit,  and  he  will  be  able  to  give  me  a  large 
basket  of  primroses,  and  that  will  make  him 
so  happy.' 

"  '  You  are  certainly  very  thoughtful  about 
others,'  answered  the  Wife,  as  she  sat  in  her 
comfortable  armchair  by  the  big  pinewood 
fire;  'very  thoughful  indeed.  It  is  quite  a 
treat  to  hear  you  talk  about  friendship.  I 
am  sure  the  clergyman  himself  could  not 
say  such  beautiful  things  as  you  do,  though 
he  does  live  in  a  three -storied  house,  and 
wear  a  gold  ring  on  his  little  finger.' 

" '  But  could  we  not  ask  little  Hans  up 
here  ?' said  the  Miller's  youngest  son.  'If 
poor  Hans  is  in  trouble  I  will  give  him 
half  my  porridge,  and  show  him  my  white 
rabbits.' 

" '  What  a  silly  boy  you  are ! '  cried  the 
Miller;  '  I  really  don't  know  what  is  the  use 
of  sending  you  to  school.     You  seem  not  to 


49 


'  THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

learn  anything.  Why,  if  little  Hans  came  up 
here,  and  saw  our  warm  fire,  and  our  good 
supper,  and  our  great  cask  of  red  wine,  he 
might  get  envious,  and  envy  is  a  most  terri- 
ble thing,  and  would  spoil  anybody's  nature. 
I  certainly  will  not  allow  Hans's  nature  to  be 
spoiled.  I  am  his  best  friend,  and  I  will 
always  watch  over  him,  and  see  that  he  is 
not  led  into  any  temptations.  Besides,  if 
Hans  came  here,  he  might  ask  me  to  let  him 
have  some  flour  on  credit,  and  that  I  could 
not  do.  Flour  is  one  thing,  and  friendship 
is  another,  and  they  should  not  be  confused. 
Why,  the  words  are  spelt  differently,  and 
mean  quite  different  things.  Everybody  can 
see  that.' 

"  *  How  well  you  talk ! '  said  the  Miller's 
Wife,  pouring  herself  out  a  large  glass  of 
warm  ale ;  '  really  I  feel  quite  drowsy.  It  is 
just  like  being  in  church.' 

'"Lots  of  people  act  well,'  answered  the 
Miller ;  *  but  very  few  people  talk  well,  which 
shows  that  talking  is  much  the  more  difficult 
thing  of  the  two,  and  much  the  finer  thing 
also; '  and  he  looked  sternly  across  the  table 
at  his  little  son,  who  felt  so  ashamed  of  him- 
self that  he  hung  his  head  down,  and  grew 
quite  scarlet,  and  began  to  cry  into  his  tea. 
However,  he  was  so  young  that  you  must 
excuse  him." 


50 


THE    DEVOTED    FRIEND 

"  Is  that  the  end  of  the  story  ?  "  asked  the 
Water-rat. 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  the  Linnet, 
"that  is  the  beginning." 

"  Then  you  are  quite  behind  the  age,"  said 
the  Water-rat.  "  Every  good  story-teller 
nowadays  starts  with  the  end,  and  then  goes 
on  to  the  beginning,  and  concludes  with  the 
middle.  That  is  the  new  method.  I  heard 
all  about  it  the  other  day  from  a  critic  who 
was  walking  round  the  pond  with  a  young 
man.  He  spoke  of  the  matter  at  great 
length,  and  I  am  sure  he  must  have  been 
right,  for  he  had  blue  spectacles  and  a  bald 
head,  and  whenever  the  young  man  made 
any  remark,  he  always  answered  'Pooh!' 
But  pray  go  on  with  your  story.  I  like  the 
Miller  immensely.  I  have  all  kinds  of 
beautiful  sentiments  myself,  so  there  is  a 
great  sympathy  between  us." 

*'  Well,"  said  the  Linnet,  hopping  now  on 
one  leg  and  now  on  the  other,  "  as  soon  as 
the  winter  was  over,  and  the  primroses 
began  to  open  their  pale  yellow  stars,  the 
miller  said  to  his  wife  that  he  would  go 
down  and  see  little  Hans. 

"  '  Why,  what  a  good  heart  you  have  ! ' 
cried  his  Wife;  'you  are  always  thinking  of 
others.  And  mind  you  take  the  big  basket 
with  you  for  the  flowers.' 


SI 


THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

"  So  the  Miller  tied  the  sails  of  the 
windmill  together  with  a  strong  iron  chain, 
and  went  down  the  hill  with  the  basket  on 
his  arm. 

" '  Good  morning,  little  Hans,  *  said  the 
Miller. 

'"  Good  morning,' said  Hans,  leaning  on 
his  spade,  and  smiling  from  ear  to  ear. 

"  'And  how  have  you  been  all  the  winter  ? ' 
said  the  Miller. 

"'Well,  really,'  cried  Hans,  'it  is  very 
good  of  you  to  ask,  very  good  indeed.  I  am 
afraid  I  had  rather  a  hard  time  of  it,  but 
now  the  spring  has  come,  and  I  am  quite 
happy,  and  all  my  flowers  are  doing  well/ 

" '  We  often  talked  of  you  during  the  win- 
ter, Hans,'  said  the  Miller,  '  and  wondered 
how  you  were  getting  on.' 

"  '  That  was  kind  of  you,'  said  Hans  ;  '  I 
was  half  afraid  you  had  forgotten  me.' 

"*  Hans,  I  am  surprised  at  you,'  said  the 
Miller  ;  '  friendship  never  forgets.  That  is 
the  wonderful  thing  about  it,  but  I  am 
afraid  you  don't  understand  the  poetry  of 
life.  How  lovely  your  primroses  are  look- 
ing, by-the-bye !  ' 

*' '  They  are  certainly  very  lovely,'  said 
Hans,  '  and  it  is  a  most  lucky  thing  for  me 
that  I  have  so  many.  I  am  going  to  bring 
them  into  the  market  and  sell  them  to  the 


52 


THE    DEVOTED   FRIEND 

Burgomaster's  daughter,  and  buy  back  my 
wheelbarrow  with  the  money.' 

" '  Buy  back  your  wheelbarrow  ?  You  don't 
mean  to  say  you  have  sold  it  ?  What  a  very 
stupid  thing  to  do  ! ' 

"'Well,  the  fact  is,'  said  Hans,  'that  I 
was  obliged  to.  You  see  the  winter  was  a 
very  bad  time  for  me,  and  I  really  had  no 
money  at  all  to  buy  bread  with.  So  I  first 
sold  the  silver  buttons  off  my  Sunday  coat, 
and  then  I  sold  my  silver  chain,  and  then  I 
sold  my  big  pipe,  and  at  last  I  sold  my 
wheelbarrow.  But  I  am  going  to  buy  them 
all  back  again  now.' 

"'Hans,'  said  the  Miller,  'I  will  give  you 
my  wheelbarrow.  It  is  not  in  very  good 
repair;  indeed,  one  side  is  gone,  and  there  is 
something  wrong  with  the  wheel -spokes  ; 
but  in  spite  of  that  I  will  give  it  to  you.  I 
know  it  is  very  generous  of  me,  and  a  great 
many  people  would  think  me  extremely 
foolish  for  parting  with  it,  but  I  am  not  like 
the  rest  of  the  world.  I  think  that 
generosity  is  the  essence  of  friendship,  and, 
besides,  I  have  got  a  new  wheelbarrow  for 
myself.  Yes,  you  may  set  your  mind  at 
ease,  I  will  give  you  my  wheelbarrow.' 

" '  Well,  really,  that  is  generous  of  you,' 
said  little  Hans,  and  his  funny  round  face 
glowed  all  over  with  pleasure.    '  I  can  easily 


53 


THE   DEVOTED    FRIEND 

put  it  in  repair,  as  I  have  a  plank  of  wood  in 
the  house.' 

"  'A  plank  of  wood  I '  said  the  Miller ;  •  why, 
that  is  just  what  I  want  for  the  roof  of  my 
barn.  There  is  a  very  large  hole  in  it,  and 
the  corn  will  all  get  damp  if  I  don't  stop  it  up. 
How  lucky  you  mentioned  itl  It  is  quite 
remarkable  how  one  good  action  always 
breeds  another.  I  have  given  you  my 
wheelbarrow,  and  now  you  are  going  to  give 
me  your  plank.  Of  course,  the  wheelbarrow 
is  worth  far  more  than  the  plank,  but  true 
friendship  never  notices  things  like  that. 
Pray  get  it  at  once,  and  I  will  set  to  work  at 
my  barn  this  very  day.' 

"'Certainly,'  cried  little  Hans,  and  he 
ran  into  the  shed  and  dragged  the  plank  out. 

"  '  It  is  not  a  very  big  plank,'  said  the 
Miller,  looking  at  it,  '  and  I  am  afraid  that 
after  I  have  mended  my  barn-roof  there 
won't  be  any  left  for  you  to  mend  the 
wheelbarrow  with ;  but,  of  course,  that  is 
not  my  fault.  And  now,  as  I  have  given 
you  my  wheelbarrow,  I  am  sure  you  would 
like  to  give  me  some  flowers  in  return.  Here 
is  the  basket,  and  mind  you  fill  it  quite  full.* 

"  '  Quite  full  ? '  said  little  Hans,  rather 
sorrowfully,  for  it  was  really  a  very  big 
basket,  and  he  knew  that  if  he  filled  it  he 
would  have  no  flowers  left  for  the  market, 


54 


THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

and  he  was  very  anxious  to  get  his  silver 
buttons  back. 

"  '  Well,  really,'  answered  the  Miller,  'as  I 
have  given  you  my  wheelbarrow,  I  don't 
think  that  it  is  much  to  ask  you  for  a  few 
flowers.  I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  should  have 
thought  that  friendship,  true  friendship, 
was  quite  free  from  selfishness  of  any  kind.' 

" '  My  dear  friend,  my  best  friend,'  cried 
little  Hans,  '  you  are  welcome  to  all  the 
flowers  in  my  garden.  I  would  much  sooner 
have  your  good  opinion  than  my  silver 
buttons  any  day  ; '  and  he  ran  and  plucked 
all  his  pretty  primroses,  and  filled  the 
Miller's  basket. 

'"Good-bye,  little  Hans,'  said  the  Miller, 
as  he  went  up  the  hill  with  the  plank  on  his 
shoulder,  and  the  big  basket  in  his  hand. 

" '  Good-bye,'  said  little  Hans,  and  he 
began  to  dig  away  quite  merrily,  he  was  so 
pleased  about  the  wheelbarrow. 

"  The  next  day  he  was  nailing  up  some 
honeysuckle  against  the  porch,  when  he 
heard  the  Miller's  voice  calling  to  him  from 
the  road.  So  he  jumped  off  the  ladder,  and 
ran  down  the  garden,  and  looked  over  the 
wall. 

"  There  was  the  Miller  with  a  large  sack 
of  flour  on  his  back. 

" '  Dear    little    Hans,'    said    the     Miller, 


55 


THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

♦  would  you  mind  carrying  this  sack  of  flour 
for  me  to  market  ? ' 

"  *  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry,'  said  Hans,  'but  I 
am  really  very  busy  to-day.  I  have  got  all 
my  creepers  to  nail  up,  and  all  my  flowers 
to  water,  and  all  my  grass  to  roll.' 

"'Well,  really,'  said  the  Miller,  'I  think 
that,  considering  that  I  am  going  to  give 
you  my  wheelbarrow,  it  is  rather  unfriendly 
of  you  to  refuse.' 

'"Oh,  don't  say  that,'  cried  little  Hans, 
'  I  wouldn't  be  unfriendly  for  the  whole 
world ; '  and  he  ran  in  for  his  cap,  and 
trudged  off  with  the  big  sack  on  his 
shoulders. 

"  It  was  a  very  hot  day,  and  the  road  was 
terrible  dusty,  and  before  Hans  had  reached 
the  sixth  milestone  he  was  so  tired  that  he 
had  to  sit  down  and  rest.  However,  he 
went  on  bravely,  and  at  last  he  reached  the 
market.  After  he  had  waited  there  some 
time,  he  sold  the  sack  of  floair  for  a  very 
good  price,  and  then  he  returned  home  at 
once,  for  he  was  afraid  that  if  he  stopped  too 
late  he  might  meet  some  robbers  on  the  way. 

" '  It  has  certainly  been  a  hard  day,'  said 
little  Hans  to  himself  as  he  was  going  to 
bed,  'but  I  am  glad  I  did  not  refuse  the 
Miller,  for  he  is  my  best  friend,  and,  besides, 
he  is  going  to  give  me  his  wheelbarrow.' 


56 


THE    DEVOTED   FRIEND 

"  Early  the  next  morning  the  Miller  came 
down  to  get  the  money  for  his  sack  of  flour, 
but  little  Hans  was  so  tired  that  he  was  still 
in  bed. 

"  *  Upon  my  word,'  said  the  Miller,  '  you 
are  very  lazy.  Really,  considering  that  I 
am  going  to  give  you  my  wheelbarrow,  I 
think  you  might  work  harder.  Idleness  is  a 
great  sin,  and  I  certainly  don't  like  any  of 
my  friends  to  be  idle  or  sluggish.  You 
must  not  mind  my  speaking  quite  plainly  to 
you.  Of  course  I  should  not  dream  of 
doing  so  if  I  were  not  your  friend.  But 
what  is  the  good  of  friendship  if  one  cannot 
say  exactly  what  one  means  ?  Anybody  can 
say  charming  things  and  try  to  please  and 
to  flatter,  but  a  true  friend  always  says 
unpleasant  things,  and  does  not  mind  giving 
pain.  Indeed,  if  he  is  a  really  true  friend  he 
prefers  it,  for  he  knows  that  then  he  is  doing 
good.' 

" '  I  am  very  sorry,'  said  little  Hans, 
rubbing  his  eyes  and  pulling  off  his  nightcap, 
'  but  I  was  so  tired  that  I  thought  I  would 
lie  in  bed  for  a  little  time,  and  listen  to  the 
birds  singing.  Do  you  know  that  I  always 
work  better  after  hearing  the  birds  sing  ? ' 

" '  Well,  I  am  glad  of  that,'  said  the 
Miller,  clapping  little  Hans  on  the  back,  'for 
I  want  you  to  come  up  to  the  mill  as  soon 


57 


THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

as  you  are  dressed,  and  mend  my  barn-roof 
for  me.' 

"  Poor  little  Hans  was  very  anxious  to  go 
and  work  in  his  garden,  for  his  flowers  had 
not  been  watered  for  two  days,  but  he  did  not 
like  to  refuse  the  Miller,  as  he  was  such  a 
good  friend  to  him. 

"  '  Do  you  think  it  would  be  unfriendly  of 
me  if  I  said  I  was  busy  ? '  he  inquired  in  a 
shy  and  timid  voice. 

'* '  Well,  really,'  answered  the  Miller,  '  I 
do  not  think  it  is  much  to  ask  of  you,  con- 
sidering that  I  am  going  to  give  you  my 
wheelbarrow ;  but  of  course  if  you  refuse  I 
will  go  and  do  it  myself.' 

"  '  Oh  !  on  no  account,'  cried  little  Hans  ; 
and  he  jumped  out  of  bed,  and  dressed  him- 
self, and  went  up  to  the  bam. 

"  He  worked  there  all  day  long,  till  sunset, 
and  at  sunset  the  Miller  came  to  see  how 
he  was  getting  on. 

" '  Have  you  mended  the  hole  in  the  roof 
yet,  little  Hans  .'' '  cried  the  Miller  in  a  cheery 
voice. 

" '  It  is  quite  mended,'  answered  little 
Hans,  coming  down  the  ladder. 

''  'Ah  I '  said  the  Miller,  '  there  is  no  work 
so  delightful  as  the  work  one  does  for 
others.' 

" '  It  is  certainly  a  great  privilege  to  hear 


58 


THE   DEVOTED    FRIEND 

you  talk,'  answered  little  Hans,  sitting  down 
and  wiping  his  forehead,  '  a  very  great  priv- 
ilege. But  I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  have 
such  beautiful  ideas  as  you  have.' 

"'Oh!  they  will  come  to  you,'  said  the 
Miller,  '  but  you  must  take  more  pains.  At 
present  you  have  only  the  practice  of  friend- 
ship; some  day  you  will  have  the  theory 
also.' 

'"Do  you  really  think  I  shall?"  asked 
little  Hans. 

"'I  have  no  doubt  of  it,'  answered  the 
Miller;  'but  now  that  you  have  mended  the 
roof,  you  had  better  go  home  and  rest,  for  I 
want  you  to  drive  my  sheep  to  the  mountain 
to-morrow.' 

"  Poor  little  Hans  was  afraid  to  say  any- 
thing to  this,  and  early  the  next  morning 
the  Miller  brought  his  sheep  round  to  the 
cottage,  and  Hans  started  off  with  them  to 
the  mountain.  It  took  him  the  whole  day 
to  get  there  and  back ;  and  when  he  returned 
he  was  so  tired  that  he  went  off  to  sleep  in 
his  chair,  and  did  not  wake  up  till  it  was 
broad  daylight. 

" '  What  a  delightful  time  I  shall  have  in 
my  garden,'  he  said,  and  he  went  to  work  at 
once. 

"But  somehow  he  was  never  able  to  look 
after  his  flowers  at  all,  for  his  friend  the 


59 


THE   DEVOTED   FRIEND 

Miller  was  always  coming  round  and  sending 
him  off  on  long  errands,  or  getting  him  to 
help  at  the  mill.  Little  Hans  was  very  much 
distressed  at  times,  as  he  was  afraid  his 
flowers  would  think  he  had  forgotten  them, 
but  he  consoled  himself  by  the  reflection 
that  the  Miller  was  his  best  friend.  *  Besides,' 
he  used  to  say,  '  he  is  going  to  give  me  his 
wheelbarrow,  and  that  is  an  act  of  pure 
generosity.' 

"  So  little  Hans  worked  away  for  the 
Miller,  and  the  Miller  said  all  kinds  of  beau- 
tiful things  about  friendship,  which  Hans 
took  down  in  a  note- book,  and  used  to  read 
over  at  night,  for  he  was  a  very  good  scholar. 

"  Now  it  happened  that  one  evening  little 
Hans  was  sitting  by  his  fireside  when  a  loud 
rap  came  at  the  door.  It  was  a  very  wild 
night,  and  the  wind  was  blowing  and  roar- 
ing round  the  house  so  terribly  that  at  first 
he  thought  it  was  merely  the  storm.  But  a 
second  rap  came,  and  then  a  third,  louder 
than  either  of  the  others. 

'♦ '  It  is  some  poor  traveller,'  said  little 
Hans  to  himself,  and  he  ran  to  the  door. 

"  There  stood  the  Miller  with  a  lantern  in 
one  hand  and  a  big  stick  in  the  other. 

"  *  Dear  little  Hans,'  cried  the  Miller,  '  I 
am  in  great  trouble.  My  little  boy  has  fallen 
off  a  ladder  and   hurt    himself,  and   I   am 


60 


THE    DEVOTED    FRIEND 

going  for  the  Doctor.  But  he  lives  so  far 
away,  and  it  is  such  a  bad  night,  that  it  has 
just  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  much 
better  if  you  went  instead  of  me.  You  know 
I  am  going  to  give  you  my  wheelbarrow,  and 
so  it  is  only  fair  that  you  should  do  some- 
thing for  me  in  return.' 

'"  Certainly,'  cried  little  Hans,  'I  take  it 
quite  as  a  compliment  your  coming  to  me, 
and  I  will  start  off  at  once.  But  you  must 
lend  me  your  lantern,  as  the  night  is  so  dark 
that  I  am  afraid  I  might  fall  into  the  ditch.' 

*' '  I  am  very  sorry,'  answered  the  Miller, 
'  but  it  is  my  new  lantern,  and  it  would  be  a 
great  loss  to  me  if  anything  happened  to  it.' 

"  '  Well,  never  mind,  I  will  do  without  it,' 
cried  little  Hans,  and  he  took  down  his  great 
fur  coat,  and  his  warm  scarlet  cap,  and  tied 
a  muffler  round  his  throat,  and  started  off. 

"  What  a  dreadful  storm  it  was !  The 
night  was  so  black  that  little  Hans  could 
hardly  see,  and  the  wind  was  so  strong  that 
he  could  scarcely  stand.  However,  he  was 
very  courageous,  and  after  he  had  been 
walking  about  three  hours,  he  arrived  at  the 
Doctor's  house,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 

"'Who  is  there? 'cried  the  Doctor,  put- 
ting his  head  out  of  his  bedroom  window. 

" '  Little  Hans,  Doctor.' 

'* '  What  do  you  want,  little  tians  ? ' 


6i 


THE    DEVOTED   FRIEND 

•' '  The  Miller's  son  has  fallen  from  a 
ladder,  and  has  hurt  himself,  and  the  Miller 
wants  you  to  come  at  once.' 

"'All  right  I'  said  the  Doctor;  and  he 
ordered  his  horse,  and  his  big  boots,  and  his 
lantern,  and  came  downstairs,  and  rode  off 
in  the  direction  of  the  Miller's  house,  little 
Hans  trudging  behind  him. 

"  But  the  storm  grew  worse  and  worse, 
and  the  rain  fell  in  torrents,  and  little  Hans 
could  not  see  where  he  was  going,  or  keep 
up  with  the  horse.  At  last  he  lost  his  way, 
and  wandered  off  on  the  moor,  which  was  a 
very  dangerous  place,  as  it  was  full  of  deep 
holes,  and  there  poor  little  Hans  was 
drowned.  His  body  was  found  the  next  day 
by  some  goatherds,  floating  in  a  great  pool 
of  water,  and  was  brought  back  by  them  to 
the  cottage. 

"Everybody  went  to  little  Hans's  funeral, 
as  he  was  so  popular,  and  the  Miller  was  the 
chief  mourner. 

"  'As  I  was  his  best  friend,'  said  the  Miller, 
'  it  is  only  fair  that  I  should  have  the  best 
place ; '  so  he  walked  at  the  head  of  the 
procession  in  a  long  black  cloak,  and  every 
now  and  then  he  wiped  his  eyes  with  a  big 
pocket-handkerchief. 

" '  Little  Hans  is  certainly  a  great  loss  to 
every  one,'  said  the   Blacksmith,  when  the 


62 


THE    DEVOTED    FRIEND 

funeral  was  over,  and  they  were  all  seated 
comfortably  in  the  inn,  drinking  spiced  wine 
and  eating  sweet  cakes. 

"  A  great  loss  to  me  at  any  rate,'  answered 
the  Miller ;  '  why,  I  had  as  good  as  given  him 
my  wheelbarrow,  and  now  I  really  don't 
know  what  to  do  with  it.  It  is  very  much  in 
my  way  at  home,  and  it  is  in  such  bad  repair 
that  I  could  not  get  anything  for  it  if  I  sold 
it.  I  will  certainly  take  care  not  to  give 
away  anything  again.  One  always  suffers 
for  being  generous.' " 

"  Well  ?  "  said  the  Water-rat,  after  a  long 
pause. 

"  Well,  that  is  the  end,"  said  the  Linnet. 

"  But  what  became  of  the  Miller  ?  "  asked 
the  Water-rat. 

"Oh!  I  really  don't  know,"  replied  the 
Linnet ;  "  and  I  am  sure  that  I  don't  care." 

"  It  is  quite  evident  then  that  you  have  no 
sympathy  in  your  nature,"  said  the  Water- 
rat. 

"  1  am  afraid  you  don't  quite  see  the  moral 
of  the  story,"  remarked  the  Linnet. 

"  The  what  ?  "  screamed  the  Water-rat. 

"  The  moral." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  story  has  a 
moral  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  Linnet. 

"  Well,  really,"  said  the  Water-rat,  in  a 


63 


THE    DEVOTED    FRIEND 

very  angry  manner,  "  I  think  you  should 
have  told  me  that  before  you  began.  If  you 
had  done  so,  I  certainly  would  not  have 
listened  to  you ;  in  fact,  I  should  have  said 
'  Pooh,'  like  the  critic.  However,  I  can  say 
it  now;"  so  he  shouted  out  "Pooh"  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  gave  a  whisk  with  his  tail, 
and  went  back  into  his  hole. 

"And  how  do  you  like  the  Water-rat?" 
asked  the  Duck,  who  came  paddling  up 
some  minutes  afterwards.  "  He  has  a  great 
many  good  points,  but  for  my  own  part  I 
have  a  mother's  feelings,  and  I  can  never 
look  at  a  confirmed  bachelor  without  the 
tears  coming  into  my  eyes." 

"  I  am  rather  afraid  that  I  have  annoyed 
him,"  answered  the  Linnet.  "  The  fact  is, 
that  I  told  him  a  story  with  a  moral." 

"Ah !  that  is  always  a  very  dangerous 
thing  to  do,"  said  the  Duck. 

And  I  quite  agree  with  her. 


1 


THE  REMARKABLE  ROCKET 


THE  REMARKABLE  ROCKET 

THE  King's  son  was  going  to  be  married, 
so  there  were  general  rejoicings.  He 
had  waited  a  whole  year  for  his  bride,  and 
at  last  she  had  arrived.  She  was  a  Russian 
Princess,  and  had  driven  all  the  way  from 
Finland  in  a  sledge  drawn  by  six  reindeer. 
The  sledge  was  shaped  like  a  great  golden 
swan,  and  between  the  swan's  wings  lay  the 
little  Princess  herself.  Her  long  ermine 
cloak  reached  right  down  to  her  feet,  on  her 
head  was  a  tiny  cap  of  silver  tissue,  and  she 
was  as  pale  as  the  Snow  Palace  in  which  she 
had  always  lived.  So  pale  was  she  that  as 
she  drove  through  the  streets  all  the  people 
wondered.  "  She  is  like  a  white  rose ! " 
they  cried,  and  they  threw  down  flowers  on 
her  from  the  balconies. 

At  the  gate  of  the  Castle  the  Prince  was 
waiting  to  receive  her.  He  had  dreamy 
violet  eyes,  and  his  hair  was  like  fine  gold. 
When  he  saw  her  he  sank  upon  one  knee, 
and  kissed  her  hand. 


67 


THE    REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

"Your  picture  was  beautiful,"  he  mur- 
mured, "  but  you  are  more  beautiful  than 
your  picture ; "  and  the  little  Princess 
blushed. 

"  She  was  like  a  white  rose  before,"  said 
a  young  Page  to  his  neighbour,  '*  but  she  is 
like  a  red  rose  now;  "  and  the  whole  Court 
was  delighted. 

For  the  next  three  days  everybody  went 
about  saying,  "  White  rose,  Red  rose,  Red 
rose,  White  rose ; "  and  the  King  gave 
orders  that  the  Page's  salary  was  to  be 
doubled.  As  he  received  no  salary  at  all 
this  was  not  of  much  use  to  him,  but  it  was 
considered  a  great  honour,  and  was  duly 
published  in  the  Court  Gazette. 

When  the  three  days  were  over  the  mar- 
riage was  celebrated.  It  was  a  magnificent 
ceremony,  and  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
walked  hand  in  hand  under  a  canopy  of 
purple  velvet  embroidered  with  little  pearls. 
Then  there  was  a  State  Banquet,  which 
lasted  for  five  hours.  The  Prince  and  Prin- 
cess sat  at  the  top  of  the  Great  Hall  and 
drank  out  of  a  cup  of  clear  crystal.  Only 
true  lovers  could  drink  out  of  this  cup,  for 
if  false  lips  touched  it,  it  grew  grey  and  dull 
and  cloudy. 

"  It  is  quite  clear  that  they  love  each 
other, "  said  the  little    Page,  "  as   clear  as 


68 


THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

crystal !"  and  the  King  doubled  his  salary  a 
second  time.  "  What  an  honour !  "  cried  all 
the  courtiers. 

After  the  banquet  there  was  to  be  a  Ball. 
The  bride  and  bridegroom  were' to  dance  the 
Rose-dance  together,  and  the  King  had 
promised  to  play  the  flute.  He  played  very 
badly,  but  no  one  had  ever  dared  to  tell  him 
so,  because  he  was  the  King.  Indeed,  he 
only  knew  two  airs,  and  was  never  quite 
certain  which  one  he  was  playing  ;  but  it 
made  no  matter,  for,  whatever  he  did, 
everybody  cried  out,  "Charming!  charm- 
ing !  " 

The  last  item  on  the  programme  was  a 
grand  display  of  fireworks,  to  be  let  off 
exactly  at  midnight.  The  little  Princess  had 
never  seen  a  firework  in  her  life,  so  the 
King  had  given  orders  that  the  Royal 
Pyrotechnist  should  be  in  attendance  on  the 
day  of  her  marriage. 

"  What  are  fireworks  like .'' "  she  had 
asked  the  Prince,  one  morning,  as  she  was 
walking  on  the  terrace. 

*'  They  are  like  the  Aurora  Borealis,  "  said 
the  King,  who  always  answered  questions 
that  were  addressed  to  other  people,  "  only 
much  more  natural.  I  prefer  them  to  stars 
myself,  as  you  always  know  when  they  are 
going  to  appear,  and  they  are  as  delightful 


69 


THE   REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

as  my  own  flute-playing.  You  must 
certainly  see  them." 

So  at  the  end  of  the  King's  garden  a  great 
stand  had  been  set  up,  and  as  soon  as  the 
Royal  Pyrotechnist  had  put  everything  in  its 
proper  place,  the  fireworks  began  to  talk  to 
each  other. 

*'  The  world  is  certainly  very  beautiful,  " 
cried  a  little  Squib.  "  Just  look  at  those 
yellow  tulips.  Why !  if  they  were  real 
crackers  they  could  not  be  lovelier.  I  am 
very  glad  I  have  travelled.  Travel  improves 
the  mind  wonderfully,  and  does  away  with 
all  one's  prejudices." 

'*  The  King's  garden  is  not  the  world,  you 
foolish  Squib,"  said  a  big  Roman  Candle; 
"  the  world  is  an  enormous  place,  and  it 
would  take  you  three  days  to  see  it 
thoroughly." 

"  Any  place  you  love  is  the  world  to  you," 
exclaimed  a  pensive  Catharine  Wheel,  who 
had  been  attached  to  an  old  deal  box  in 
early  life,  and  prided  herself  on  her  broken 
heart ;  "  but  love  is  not  fashionable  any  more, 
the  poets  have  killed  it.  They  wrote  so 
much  about  it  that  nobody  believed  them, 
and  I  am  not  surprised.     True  love  suffers, 

and  is  silent.     I  remember  myself  once 

But  it  is  no  matter  now.  Romance  is  a 
thing  of  the  past." 


70 


THE   REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

*•  Nonsense  I  "  said  the  Roman  Candle, 
"  Romance  never  dies.  It  is  like  the  moon, 
and  lives  for  ever.  The  bride  and  bridegroom, 
for  instance,  love  each  other  very  dearly.  I 
heard  all  about  them  this  morning  from  a 
brown -paper  cartridge,  who  happened  to  be 
staying  in  the  same  drawer  as  myself,  and 
knew  the  latest  Court  news." 

But  the  Catharine  Wheel  shook  her  head. 
"Romance  is  dead,  Romance  is  dead,  Ro- 
mance is  dead,"  she  murmured.  She  was 
one  of  those  people  who  think  that,  if  you 
say  the  same  thing  over  and  over  a  great 
many  times,  it  becomes  true  in  the  end. 

Suddenly,  a  sharp,  dry  cough  was  heard, 
and  they  all  looked  round. 

It  came  from  a  tall,  supercilious -looking 
Rocket,  who  was  tied  to  the  end  of  a 
long  stick.  He  always  coughed  before  he 
made  any  observation,  so  as  to  attract 
attention. 

"Ahem  !  ahem  !  "  he  said,  and  everybody 
listened  except  the  poor  Catharine  Wheel, 
who  was  still  shaking  her  head,  and  murmur- 
ing, "  Romance  is  dead." 

"  Order  I  order ! "  cried  out  a  Cracker.  He 
was  something  of  a  politician,  and  had 
always  taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  local 
elections,  so  he  knew  the  proper  Parlia- 
mentary expressions  to  use. 


71 


THE    REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

"Quite  dead, "  whispered  the  Catharine 
Wheel,  and  she  went  off  to  sleep. 

As  soon  as  there  was  perfect  silence,  the 
Rocket  coughed  a  third  time  and  began. 
He  spoke  with  a  very  slow,  distinct  voice, 
as  if  he  was  dictating  his  memoirs,  and 
always  looked  over  the  shoulder  of  the 
person  to  whom  he  was  talking.  In  fact,  he 
had  a  most  distinguished  manner. 

"  How  fortunate  it  is  for  the  King's  son," 
he  remarked,  "  that  he  is  to  be  married  on 
the  very  day  on  which  I  am  to  be  let  off. 
Really,  if  it  had  been  arranged  beforehand, 
it  could  not  have  turned  out  better  for  him ; 
but  Princes  are  always  lucky." 

"Dear  me!"  said  the  little  Squib,  "  I 
thought  it  was  quite  the  other  way,  and  that 
we  were  to  be  let  off  in  the  Prince's  honour." 

"  It  may  be  so  with  you,"  he  answered ; 
"  indeed,  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  is,  but  with 
me  it  is  different,  I  am  a  very  remarkable 
Rocket,  and  come  of  remarkable  parents. 
My  mother  was  the  most  celebrated 
Catharine  Wheel  of  her  day,  and  was 
renowned  for  her  graceful  dancing.  When 
she  made  her  great  public  appearance  she 
spun  round  nineteen  times  before  she  went 
out,  and  each  time  that  she  did  so  she 
threw  into  the  air  seven  pink  stars.  She 
was  three  feet  and  a  half  in  diameter,  and 


72 


THE   REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

made  of  the  very  best  gunpowder.  My 
father  was  a  Rocket  like  myself,  and  of 
French  extraction.  He  flew  so  high  that 
the  people  were  afraid  that  he  would  never 
come  down  again.  He  did,  though,  for  he 
was  of  a  kindly  disposition,  and  he  made  a 
most  brilliant  descent  in  a  shower  of  golden 
rain.  The  newspapers  wrote  about  his  per- 
formance in  very  flattering  terms.  Indeed, 
the  Court  Gazette  called  him  a  triumph  of 
Pylotechnic  art." 

"  Pyrotechnic,  Pyrotechnic,  you  mean," 
said  a  Bengal  Light ;  *'  I  know  it  is 
Pyrotechnic,  for  I  saw  it  written  on  my  own 
canister." 

"  Well,  I  said  Pylotechnic,"  answered  the 
Rocket,  in  a  severe  tone  of  voice,  and  the 
Bengal  Light  felt  so  crushed  that  he  began 
at  once  to  bully  the  little  squibs,  in  order  to 
show  that  he  was  still  a  person  of  some 
importance. 

"  I  was  saying,"  continued  the  Rocket, 
"I  was  saying What  was  I  saying?" 

'•  You  were  talking  about  yourself," 
replied  the  Roman  Candle. 

"  Of  course ;  I  knew  I  was  discussing 
some  interesting  subject  when  I  was  so 
rudely  interrupted.  1  hate  rudeness  and 
bad  manners  of  every  kind,  for  I  am 
extremely  sensitive.     No  one  in  the  whole 


73 


THE   REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

world   is  SO  sensitive  as  I  am,  I  am   quite 
sure  of  that." 

"What  is  a  sensitive  person  ? "  said  the 
Cracker  to  the  Roman  Candle. 

*'  A  person  who,  because  he  has  corns 
himself,  always  treads  on  other  people's 
toes,"  answered  the  Roman  Candle  in  a  low 
whisper;  and  the  Cracker  nearly  exploded 
with  laughter. 

"  Pray,  what  are  you  laughing  at  ? " 
inquired  the  Rocket ;  '*  I  am  not  laughing." 

"  I  am  laughing  because  I  am  happy," 
replied  the  Cracker, 

"  That  is  a  very  selfish  reason,"  said  the 
Rocket  angrily.  '*  What  right  have  you  to 
be  happy  ?  You  should  be  thinking  about 
others.  In  fact,  you  should  be  thinking 
about  me.  I  am  always  thinking  about 
myself,  and  I  expect  everybody  else  to  do 
the  same.  That  is  what  is  called  sympathy. 
It  is  a  beautiful  virtue,  and  I  possess  it  in  a 
high  degree.  Suppose,  for  instance,  any- 
thing happened  to  me  to-night,  what  a 
misfortune  that  would  be  for  every  one ! 
The  Prince  and  Princess  would  never  be 
happy  again,  their  whole  married  life  would 
be  spoiled;  and  as  for  the  King,  I  know  he 
would  not  get  over  it.  Really,  when  I  begin 
to  reflect  on  the  importance  of  my  position, 
I  am  almost  moved  to  tears." 


74 


THE   REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

"  If  you  want  to  give  pleasure  to  others," 
cried  the  Roman  Candle,  "you  had  better 
keep  yourself  dry." 

"  Certainly,"  exclaimed  the  Bengal  Light, 
who  was  now  in  better  spirits ;  "  that  is  only 
common  sense." 

"  Common  sense,  indeed ! "  said  the 
Rocket  indignantly ;  "you  forget  that  I  am 
very  uncommon,  and  very  remarkable.  Why, 
anybody  can  have  common  sense,  provided 
that  they  have  no  imagination.  But  I  have 
imagination,  for  I  never  think  of  things  as 
they  really  are ;  I  always  think  of  them  as 
being  quite  different.  As  for  keeping  myself 
dry,  there  is  evidently  no  one  here  who  can 
at  all  appreciate  an  emotional  nature.  For- 
tunately for  myself,  I  don't  care.  The  only 
thing  that  sustains  one  through  life  is  the 
consciousness  of  the  immense  inferiority  of 
everybody  else,  and  this  is  a  feeling  that  I 
have  always  cultivated.  But  none  of  you 
have  any  hearts.  Here  you  are  laughing 
and  making  merry  just  as  if  the  Prince  and 
Princess  had  not  just  been  married." 

"  Well,  really,"  exclaimed  a  small  Fire- 
balloon,  "why  not?  It  is  a  most  joyful 
occasion,  and  when  I  soar  up  into  the  air  I 
intend  to  tell  the  stars  all  about  it.  You 
will  see  them  twinkle  when  I  talk  to  them 
about  the  pretty  bride." 


75 


THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

"  Ah  1  what  a  trivial  view  of  life !  "  said 
the  Rocket ;  "  but  it  is  only  what  I  expected. 
There  is  nothing  in  you;  you  are  hollow 
and  empty.  Why,  perhaps  the  Prince  and 
Princess  may  go  to  live  in  a  country  where 
there  is  a  deep  river,  and  perhaps  they  may 
have  one  only  son,  a  little  fair -haired  boy 
with  violet  eyes  like  the  Prince  himself;  and 
perhaps  some  day  he  may  go  out  to  walk 
with  his  nurse  ;  and  perhaps  the  nurse  may 
go  to  sleep  under  a  great  elder-tree ;  and 
perhaps  the  little  boy  may  fall  into  the  deep 
river  and  be  drowned.  What  a  terrible 
misfortune  !  Poor  people,  to  lose  their  only 
son  !  It  is  really  too  dreadful !  I  shall  never 
get  over  it." 

"  But  they  have  not  lost  their  only  son," 
said  the  Roman  Candle;  "no  misfortune  has 
happened  to  them  at  all." 

"  I  never  said  that  they  had,"  replied  the 
Rocket ;  "  I  said  that  they  might.  If  they 
had  lost  their  only  son  there  would  be  no 
use  in  saying  anything  more  about  the 
matter.  I  hate  people  who  cry  over  spilt 
milk.  But  when  I  think  that  they  might 
lose  their  only  son,  I  certainly  am  very 
much  affected." 

"  You  certainly  are  !  "  cried  the  Bengal 
Light.  "  In  fact,  you  are  the  most  affected 
person  I  ever  met." 


76 


THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

"  You  are  the  rudest  person  I  ever  met," 
said  the  Rocket,  "and  you  cannot  under- 
stand my  friendship  for  the  Prince." 

"Why,  you  don't  even  know  him," 
growled  the  Roman  Candle. 

"I  never  said  I  knew  him,"  answered 
the  Rocket.  "  I  dare  say  that  if  I  knew 
him  I  should  not  be  his  friend  at  all.  It 
is  a  very  dangerous  thing  to  know  one's 
friends." 

"  You  had  really  better  keep  yourself 
dry,"  said  the  Fire-balloon.  "  That  is  the 
important  thing." 

"  Very  important  for  you,  I  have  no 
doubt,"  answered  the  Rocket,  "  but  I  shall 
weep  if  I  choose  ; "  and  he  actually  burst 
into  real  tears,  which  flowed  down  his  stick 
like  raindrops,  and  nearly  drowned  two  little 
beetles,  who  were  just  thinking  of  setting 
up  house  together,  and  were  looking  for  a 
nice  dry  spot  to  live  in. 

"  He  must  have  a  truly  romantic  nature," 
said  the  Catharine  Wheel,  "for  he  weeps 
when  there  is  nothing  at  all  to  weep  about ; " 
and  she  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  thought 
about  the  deal  box. 

But  the  Roman  Candle  and  the  Bengal 
Light  were  quite  indignant,  and  kept  saying, 
"Humbug!  humbug!"  at  the  top  of  their 
voices.     They  were  extremely  practical,  and 


77 


THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

whenever  they  objected  to  anything  they 
called  it  humbug. 

Then  the  moon  rose  like  a  wonderful 
silver  shield ;  and  the  stars  began  to  shine, 
and  a  sound  of  music  came  from  the  palace. 

The  Prince  and  Princess  were  leading  the 
dance.  They  danced  so  beautifully  that  the 
tall  white  lilies  peeped  in  at  the  window  and 
watched  them,  and  the  great  red  poppies 
nodded  their  heads  and  beat  time. 

Then  ten  o'clock  struck,  and  then  eleven, 
and  then  twelve,  and  at  the  last  stroke  of 
midnight  everyone  came  out  on  the  terrace, 
and  the  King  sent  for  the  Royal  Pyrotechnist. 

"Let  the  fireworks  begin,"  said  the  King; 
and  the  Royal  Pyrotechnist  made  a  low 
bow,  and  marched  down  to  the  end  of  the 
garden.  He  had  six  attendants  with  him, 
each  of  whom  carried  a  lighted  torch  at  the 
end  of  a  long  pole. 

It  was  certainly  a  magnificent  display. 

Whizz!  Whizz!  went  the  Catharine 
Wheel,  as  she  spun  round  and  round. 
Boom!  Boom!  went  the  Roman  Candle. 
Then  the  Squibs  danced  all  over  the  place, 
and  the  Bengal  Lights  made  everything  look 
scarlet.  "  Good-bye,"  cried  the  Fire-balloon, 
as  he  soared  away  dropping  tiny  blue  sparks. 
Bang!  Bang!  answered  the  Crackers,  who 
were  enjoying  themselves  immensely.    Every 


78 


THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

one  was  a  great  success  except  the  Remark- 
able Rocket.  He  was  so  damp  with  crying 
that  he  could  not  go  off  at  all.  The  best 
thing  in  him  was  the  gunpowder,  and  that 
was  so  wet  with  tears  that  it  was  of  no  use. 
All  his  poor  relations,  to  whom  he  would 
never  speak,  except  with  a  sneer,  shot  up 
into  the  sky  like  wonderful  golden  flowers 
with  blossoms  of  fire.  "Huzza!  Huzza!" 
cried  the  Court;  and  the  little  Princess 
laughed  with  pleasure. 

"  I  suppose  they  are  reserving  me  for 
some  grand  occasion,"  said  the  Rocket; 
"  no  doubt  that  is  what  it  means,"  and  he 
looked  more  supercilious  than  ever. 

The  next  day  the  workmen  came  to  put 
everything  tidy.  "This  is  evidently  a 
deputation,"  said  the  Rocket ;  "  I  will 
receive  them  with  becoming  dignity : "  so 
he  put  his  nose  in  the  air,  and  began  to 
frown  severely  as  if  he  were  thinking  about 
some  very  important  subject.  But  they 
took  no  notice  of  him  at  all  till  they  were 
just  going  away.  Then  one  of  them  caught 
sight  of  him.  "Hallo!"  he  cried,  "what  a 
bad  rocket ! "  and  he  threw  him  over  the 
wall  into  the  ditch. 

"Bad  Rocket?  Bad  Rocket?"  he  said  as 
he  whirled  through  the  air ;  "  impossible ! 
Grand  Rocket,  that  is  what  the  man  said. 


79 


THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

Bad  and  Grand  sound  very  much  the  same, 
indeed  they  often  are  the  same ; "  and  he 
fell  into  the  mud. 

"It  is  not  comfortable  here,"  he  remarked, 
"but  no  doubt  it  is  some  fashionable 
watering-place,  and  they  have  sent  me  away 
to  recruit  my  health.  My  nerves  are 
certainly  very  much  shattered,  and  I  require 
rest." 

Then  a  little  Frog,  with  bright  jewelled 
eyes,  and  a  green  mottled  coat,  swam  up  to 
him. 

"  A  new  arrival,  I  see !  "  said  the  Frog. 
"  Well,  after  all  there  is  nothing  like  mud. 
Give  me  rainy  weather  and  a  ditch,  and  I 
am  quite  happy.  Do  you  think  it  will  be  a 
wet  afternoon  ?  I  am  sure  I  hope  so,  but 
the  sky  is  quite  blue  and  cloudless.  What 
a  pity !  " 

"  Ahem  I  ahem  I"  said  the  Rocket,  and  he 
began  to  cough. 

"  What  a  delightful  voice  you  have ! " 
cried  the  Frog.  "Really  it  is  quite  like  a 
croak,  and  croaking  is  of  course  the  most 
musical  sound  in  the  world.  You  will  hear 
our  glee-club  this  evening.  We  sit  in  the 
old  duck-pond  close  by  the  farmer's  house, 
and  as  soon  as  the  moon  rises  we  begin.  It 
is  so  entrancing  that  everybody  lies  awake 
to    listen    to    us.     In    fact,    it     was     only 


80 


THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

yesterday  that  I  heard  the  farmer's  wife  say 
to  her  mother  that  she  could  not  get  a  wink 
of  sleep  at  night  on  account  of  us.  It  is 
most  gratifying  to  find  oneself  so  popular." 

"  Ahem  !  ahem  ! "  said  the  Rocket  angrily. 
He  was  very  much  annoyed  that  he  could 
not  get  a  word  in. 

"  A  delightful  voice,  certainly,"  continued 
the  Frog;  "  I  hope  you  will  come  over  to 
the  duck -pond,  I  am  off  to  look  for  my 
daughters.  I  have  six  beautiful  daughters, 
and  I  am  so  afraid  the  Pike  may  meet  them. 
He  is  a  perfect  monster,  and  would  have 
no  hesitation  in  breakfasting  off  them.  Well, 
good-bye:  I  have  enjoyed  our  conversation 
very  much,  I  assure  you." 

"  Conversation,  indeed  !  "  said  the  Rocket. 
"  You  have  talked  the  whole  time  yourself. 
That  is  not  conversation." 

"  Somebody  must  listen,"  answered  the 
Frog,  "  and  I  like  to  do  all  the  talking  my- 
self. It  saves  time,  and  prevents  argu- 
ments." 

"  But  I  like  arguments,"  said  the  Rocket. 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  the  Frog  complacently. 
"  Arguments  are  extremely  vulgar,  for  every- 
body in  good  society  holds  exactly  the  same 
opinions.  Good-bye  a  second  time;  I  see 
my  daughters  in  the  distance ; "  and  the  little 
Frog  swam  away. 


8i 


THE    REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

"  You  are  a  very  irritating  person,"  said 
the  Rocket,  "  and  very  ill-bred.  I  hate  peo- 
ple who  talk  about  themselves,  as  you  do, 
when  one  wants  to  talk  about  oneself,  as  I 
do.  It  is  what  I  call  selfishness,  and  sel- 
fishness is  a  most  detestable  thing,  especially 
to  any  one  of  my  temperament,  for  I  am 
well  known  for  my  sympathetic  nature.  In 
fact,  you  should  take  example  by  me,  you 
could  not  possibly  have  a  better  model. 
Now  that  you  have  the  chance  you  had 
better  avail  yourself  of  it,  for  I  am  going 
back  to  Court  almost  immediately.  I  am  a 
great  favourite  at  Court ;  in  fact,  the  Prince 
and  Princess  were  married  yesterday  in  my 
honour.  Of  course  you  know  nothing  of 
these  matters,  for  you  are  a  provincial." 

"  There  is  no  good  talking  to  him,"  said  a 
Dragon-fly,  who  was  sitting  on  the  top  of 
a  large  brown  bulrush  ;  "  no  good  at  all,  for 
he  has  gone  away." 

"  Well,  that  is  his  loss,  not  mine,"  answered 
the  Rocket.  "  I  am  not  going  to  stop  talk- 
ing to  him  merely  because  he  pays  no 
attention.  I  like  hearing  myself  talk.  It 
is  one  of  my  greatest  pleasures.  I  often 
have  long  conversations  all  by  myself,  and 
I  am  so  clever  that  sometimes  I  don't 
understand  a  single  word  of  what  I  am 
saying." 


82 


THE    REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

"  Then  you  should  certainly  lecture  on 
Philosophy,"  said  the  Dragon-fly;  and  he 
spread  a  pair  of  lovely  gauze  wings  and 
soared  away  into  the  sky. 

'*  How  very  silly  of  him  not  to  stay  here ! " 
said  the  Rocket.  "  I  am  sure  that  he  has 
not  often  got  such  a  chance  of  improving 
his  mind.  However,  I  don't  care  a  bit. 
Genius  like  mine  is  sure  to  be  appreciated 
some  day ; "  and  he  sank  down  a  little 
deeper  into  the  mud. 

After  some  time  a  large  White  Duck 
swam  up  to  him.  She  had  yellow  legs,  and 
webbed  feet,  and  was  considered  a  great 
beauty  on  account  of  her  waddle. 

*'  Quack,  quack,  quack,"  she  said.  "  What 
a  curious  shape  you  are  I  May  I  ask  were 
you  bom  like  that,  or  is  it  the  result  of  an 
accident  ? " 

"  It  is  quite  evident  that  you  have  always 
lived  in  the  country,"  answered  the  Rocket, 
"  otherwise  you  would  know  who  I  am. 
However,  I  excuse  your  ignorance.  It 
would  be  unfair  to  expect  other  people  to 
be  as  remarkable  as  oneself.  You  will  no 
doubt  be  surprised  to  hear  that  I  can  fly  up 
into  the  sky  and  come  down  in  a  shower  of 
golden  rain." 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  that,"  said  the 
Duck,  "  as  I  cannot  see  what  use  it  is  to  any 


83 


THE    REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

one.  Now,  if  you  could  plough  the  fields 
like  the  ox,  or  draw  a  cart  like  the  horse, 
or  look  after  the  sheep  like  the  collie-dog, 
that  would  be  something." 

"  My  good  creature,"  cried  the  Rocket  in 
a  very  haughty  tone  of  voice,  "  I  see  that 
you  belong  to  the  lower  orders.  A  person 
of  my  position  is  never  useful.  We  have 
certain  accomplishments,  and  that  is  more 
than  sufficient.  I  have  no  sympathy  myself 
with  industry  of  any  kind,  least  of  all  with 
such  industries  as  you  seem  to  recommend. 
Indeed,  I  have  always  been  of  opinion  that 
hard  work  is  simply  the  refuge  of  people 
who  have  nothing  whatever  to  do." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  Duck,  who  was  of 
a  very  peaceable  disposition,  and  never 
quarrelled  with  any  one,  "  everybody  has 
different  tastes.  I  hope,  at  any  rate,  that 
you  are  going  to  take  up  your  residence 
here." 

"  Oh !  dear  no,"  cried  the  Rocket.  "  I 
am  merely  a  visitor,  a  distinguished  visitor. 
The  fact  is  that  I  find  this  place  rather 
tedious.  There  is  neither  society  here,  nor 
solitude.  In  fact,  it  is  essentially  suburban. 
I  shall  probably  go  back  to  Court,  for  I 
know  that  I  am  destined  to  make  a  sensation 
in  the  world." 

'*  I  had  thoughts  of  entering  public  life 


84 


THE   REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

once  myself,"  remarked  the  Duck  ;  "  there 
are  so  many  things  that  need  reforming. 
Indeed,  I  took  the  chair  at  a  meeting  some 
time  ago,  and  we  passed  resolutions  con- 
demning everything  that  we  did  not  like. 
However,  they  did  not  seem  to  have  much 
effect.  Now  I  go  in  for  domesticity,  and 
look  after  my  family." 

*'  I  am  made  for  public  life,"  said  the 
Rocket,  "  and  so  are  all  my  relations,  even 
the  humblest  of  them.  Whenever  we  appear 
we  excite  great  attention.  I  have  not  actu- 
ally appeared  myself,  but  when  I  do  so  it 
will  be  a  magnificent  sight.  As  for  domes- 
ticity, it  ages  one  rapidly,  and  distracts  one's 
mind  from  higher  things." 

"  Ah  I  the  higher  things  of  life,  how  fine 
they  are  I "  said  the  Duck ;  "  and  that 
reminds  me  how  hungry  I  feel:"  and  she 
swam  away  down  the  stream,  saying,  "Quack, 
quack,  quack." 

"  Come  back  !  come  back  !  "  screamed 
the  Rocket,  "  I  have  a  great  deal  to  say  to 
you;"  but  the  Duck  paid  no  attention  to 
him.  "  I  am  glad  that  she  has  gone,"  he 
said  to  himself,  "she  has  a  decidedly  middle- 
class  mind;  "  and  he  sank  a  little  deeper 
still  into  the  mud,  and  began  to  think  about 
the  loneliness  of  genius,  when  suddenly  two 
little  boys  in  white  smocks  came   running 


85 


THE   REMARKABLE    ROCKET 

down  the  bank,  with  a  kettle  and  some 
faggots. 

"This  must  be  the  deputation,"  said  the 
Rocket,  and  he  tried  to  look  very  dignified. 

"  Hallo!  "  cried  one  of  the  boys,  "look 
at  this  old  stick !  I  wonder  how  it  came 
here ; "  and  he  picked  the  Rocket  out  of  the 
ditch. 

"  Old  Stick  1 "  said  the  Rocket,  "  impos- 
sible !  Gold  Stick,  that  is  what  he  said. 
Gold  Stick  is  very  complimentary.  In  fact, 
he  mistakes  me  for  one  of  the  Court  digni- 
taries !  " 

"  Let  us  put  it  into  the  fire  I "  said  the 
other  boy,  "it  will  help  to  boil  the  kettle." 

So  they  piled  the  faggots  together,  and 
put  the  Rocket  on  top,  and  lit  the  fire. 

"  This  is  magnificent,"  cried  the  Rocket, 
"  they  are  going  to  let  me  off  in  broad  day- 
light, so  that  every  one  can  see  me." 

"  We  will  go  to  sleep  now,"  they  said, 
"  and  when  we  wake  up  the  kettle  will  be 
boiled;"  and  they  lay  down  on  the  grass, 
and  shut  their  eyes. 

The  Rocket  was  very  damp,  so  he  took  a 
long  time  to  burn.  At  last,  however,  the 
fire  caught  him. 

"  Now  I  am  going  off  !  "  he  cried,  and  he 
made  himself  very  stiff  and  straight.  "  I 
know  I  shall  go  much  higher  than  the  stars, 


86 


THE    REMARKABLE   ROCKET 

much  higher  than  the  moon,  much  higher 
than  the  sun.  In  fact,  I  shall  go  so  high 
that " 

Fizz!  Fizz!  Fizz!  and  he  went  straight 
up  into  the  air. 

"Delightful!"  he  cried,  "I  shall  go  on 
like  this  for  ever.     What  a  success  I  am!  " 

But  nobody  saw  him. 

Then  he  began  to  feel  a  curious  tingling 
sensation  all  over  him. 

"  Now  I  am  going  to  explode,"  he  cried. 
"  I  shall  set  the  whole  world  on  fire,  and 
make  such  a  noise,  that  nobody  will  talk 
about  anything  else  for  a  whole  year."  And 
he  certainly  did  explode.  Bang!  Bang  I 
Bang !  went  the  gunpowder.  There  was 
no  doubt  about  it. 

But  nobody  heard  him,  not  even  the  two 
little  boys,  for  they  were  sound  asleep. 

Then  all  that  was  left  of  him  was  the 
stick,  and  this  fell  down  on  the  back  of  a 
Goose  who  was  taking  a  walk  by  the  side  of 
the  ditch. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  cried  the  Goose.  "  It 
is  going  to  rain  sticks ;  "  and  she  rushed 
into  the  water, 

"  I  knew  I  should  create  a  great  sensa- 
tion," gasped  the  Rocket,  and  he  went  out. 


PRINTED  BY 

SMITH  &•  SALE 

PORTLAND 

MAINE 


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